


Aervana: A Declining World - Book 1

by MysticMidnight



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Elves, Fantasy, Gen, Heroes & Heroines, Magic, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Originally Posted Elsewhere, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Role-Playing Game, Roleplay, Roleplaying Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-08-23 21:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticMidnight/pseuds/MysticMidnight
Summary: Aervana is a world of magic. All life is sustained by mana either directly or indirectly. However, mana levels have been declining at an alarming rate. Plant life is dwindling in many areas, causing chain reactions that are affecting the entire ecosystem. On top of this, dark forces are gathering to the north and unknown creatures have been sighted razing villages. A rewritten RP.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on an RP of the same name that can be found on Pokemon Reborn forums. Credit goes to Flux (on Pokemon Reborn) for creating the RP, and to each individual member for their character. Posted with Flux's permission.
> 
> I'll be using these most chapters to detail some important information you'll need to make sense of the story, so be sure to read them. For this first note we'll give a bit of background on Shantii, a race you'll see appear in this chapter.
> 
> The Shantii warriors are the red-skinned people of the Shantii Desert. They have much more natural muscle than humans and elves and stand almost a head taller. They fight using brute force rather than swordsmanship, and relish battle. When fighting, they go into a rage, ignoring any injuries and sometimes even fatal wounds until the battle ends. Then, the toll is taken on them. Due to this rage, they are feared by all. There is a saying, "When facing the red giants, staying for even one second is a second too long." Due to this rage, they are often thought as barbarians. The Shantii are actually quite clever people, but simply do not show it well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This story is based on an RP of the same name that can be found on Pokemon Reborn forums. Credit goes to Flux (on Pokemon Reborn) for creating the RP, and to each individual member for their character. Posted with Flux's permission. I'll be using these notes most chapters to detail some important information you'll need to make sense of the story, so be sure to read them. For this first note we'll give a bit of background on Shantii, a race you'll see appear in this chapter.**
> 
>  
> 
> **The Shantii warriors are the red-skinned people of the Shantii Desert. They have much more natural muscle than humans and elves and stand almost a head taller. They fight using brute force rather than swordsmanship, and relish battle. When fighting, they go into a rage, ignoring any injuries and sometimes even fatal wounds until the battle ends. Then, the toll is taken on them. Due to this rage, they are feared by all. There is a saying, "When facing the red giants, staying for even one second is a second too long." Due to this rage, they are often thought as barbarians. The Shantii are actually quite clever people, but simply do not show it well.**

Saarid was a small town located on the outskirts of the Shantii Desert. The streets were empty, with small gusts of wind blowing the sand around. It was dark outside. The sun had set hours ago and most people had closed up shop for the night. However, Saarid's tavern, the Roasted Boar, was still serving its drinks to the few customers it had. Saarid was located out of the way of most traveling paths, and the few customers in the Roasted Boar were more than the usual. Most were humans and Shantii, though there was an elf dancer on the stage, a few more elves scattered around, and a lone Nomad sitting in one corner.

Kho turned to look as the tavern door opened. A human walked in wearing silver armor that gleamed in the moonlight shining through the open door. He wore no helmet, and his hair seemed to stick up everywhere, like it had never been combed. The man walked over to the bartender as if to buy a drink. However, the conversation between them lasted longer than it should take to place an order. The bartender shrugged at the man before walking into the back room. The man turned and stepped onto the center stage, where the elvish dancer had just finished a dance. Under the better lighting of the stage, Kho got a better look at the man. The first thing he noticed was the blood. The front of the man's armor was covered with dried blood. Kho could also clearly see now that the man had light brown hair. The man gave a sincere smile, and then began to speak.

"Hello, fellow travelers. I must say I'm sorry to disrupt your peace, but I carry an invitation as well as some rather dire news. First, I will tell you that my name is Gillem. I'll start with the bad, I guess."

Kho was curious what news the man might carry that was so important. The man called Gillem cleared his throat before continuing.

"Surely, you've all heard the rumors of demons gathering in the north."

As soon as Gillem said this, there were groans and shouts in the crowd. Many looked away and whispered to each other.

"Now I can see that many of you believe these rumors to be nothing more than that - rumors. However, I can tell you that those rumors are true. The demons do exist and they're making their way south. Some have already made it. I can testify that for myself."

Gillem gestured at the dried blood on his armor as he said the last part. One man in the crowd stood up. He was a bull of a man, well-muscled with arms as thick as the greatsword on his back.

"Let me get this straight," the man said, "You expect us to believe that you've seen these demons and escaped with nothing more than some of their blood on your armor? And how are we supposed to know that that is their blood and not that of some wild animal?" The man crossed his arms.

"You make a good argument," Gillem said, "but my tale is true. The demon I came across was not very powerful, and though I defeated it, I did not walk away unscathed." Gillem turned his side to the man and lifted up a metal plate on his armor. Upon closer inspection, Kho could see that that particular plate appeared to be melted away. Whatever had caused that had burned through Gillem's shirt as well. Gillem's flesh underneath was a gruesome sight. All of the skin had melted away along with some of the other tissues. What was left was burned, blistered, and appeared to have just recently stopped bleeding.

"This was the biggest injury I obtained from the foul creature, but if you require more proof, I can provide it."

Gillem looked at the man who had challenged him. When the man seemed unconvinced, Gillem reached into his travelsack.

"Here's the body," Gillem said and tossed a dark lump to the man. The man cried out and backed away.

"By the gods, you kept the body?!" the man said. He appeared to be whispering prayers under his breath.

"If that was what was required to make you all believe me, then I'm glad I did." Gillem said.

Kho walked up to get a look at this "demon". Upon reaching the body, his breath came up short. It was small, but unlike any creature Kho had known to walk Aervana. He had spent his entire life traveling and had never seen such a creature. It had six legs, each ending in a sharp point, like an insect's, but sharper. It had a long neck, and its face was devoid of any eyes. The only noticeable feature on its otherwise smooth head was its mouth. It had long teeth, the top and bottom rows stretching over the opposite "lip". As Kho looked up to the stage, he saw that Gillem was beginning to say something.

"...as for the 'invitation' I bring... I'm looking for strong fighters to travel with. I'm going to search for the cause of these demons. I believe they have something to do with the decline of the world's mana, and I'm going to see if I can stop it."

People in the crowd whispered among each other nervously. No one seemed inclined to accept his offer.

"I'll go with you," Kho said.

Gillem turned to look at the person who had agreed to journey with him. He appeared to be a Vanda Nomad in his lower twenties, with short, dark-brown hair that extended just above his eyes in the front. He wore a leather chestpiece with a green shirt underneath, black pants, leather boots, and carried a sword at his hip. The man wore a long tan-colored scarf wrapped around his shoulders many times, so that it reached just below his chin. There was still enough left over to come close to touching the ground behind him. Gillem was worldly enough to know that the scarf was the sign of a Vanda swordsmaster. The scarf provided protection from sand in the deserts, but it also showed the fluidity of the Vanda in battle. The scarves would trail behind a swordsmaster, leaving a graceful show of their skill. When the man turned to look at the demon's body again as he came past it, Gillem noticed that he wore a shortbow on his back as well.

"Nice to meet you," Gillem said with a smile. "I'm glad to see I'll have at least one companion in my journey." He extended a hand to shake.

The man looked at the outstretched hand, but did not shake it.

"You can call me Kho," he said sternly. "I am a ranger as well as a Nomad. I have reached the swordsmaster rank among the Vanda, and have traveled the world." The man went quiet suddenly, as if he had spoken more than he had meant to.

"Well, it's nice to meet you." Gillem said with a friendly smile. "I hope to become better acquainted along our journey. Your worldliness will be much appreciated, as we will be traveling through places I have not yet traveled. Now... are there any others who would like to come along?"

"I shall!' a shout came from the back of the room. A well-built particularly handsome Elf stood up. His hair and eyes the color of burnished Steel. He walked up to the other two, gulping from a big Flask of wine he was carrying. He placed the Flask on a loop on the pants of his tunic as he reached them. He pulled his sword and scabbard from his belt and held it in front of him. It was a curious looking Scabbard. The hand guard was sculpted into the face of an old man with hard features and a rigid beard. The man's mouth was open right where the blade would meet the hilt if the sword was not sheathed. From the mouth the Scabbard continued the design, a silvery Blue Metal representing his breath moved out from his mouth, and out onto the scabbard where it ended down towards the tip of the blade.

"My name is Olrien Galessong, and this is the blade that will accompany me, its name is Winter's Gale." After a short pause he added "This blade is the catalyst of my wind magic, for I am an elemental knight." He reattached the blade to his belt swiftly. "I would be glad to accompany you on this quest fine sirs, I am rather done wandering without a cause. It might be fun to have a goal for a change." He said a small smile on his face.

Braius lifted his head, his interest piqued. The human who had walked in hadn't struck him as a powerful warrior, though the blood had roused his suspicions. "Looks like this particular contest has ended," he said to his table mates. The only one who replied was another Shantii who weakly raised his drained mug at him in what was supposed to be respect. The large man walked over to where the knight had thrown the corpse. Braius stiffened as he examined the body. "That's. . . impossible. Creatures like this only exist in the legends." An unfamiliar feeling skittered across his heart - fear.

He turned back to the silver-clad human. "You have three companions," he announced. "My blades should be of use on this journey, and they thirst for the blood of these demons." He gestured to the two katar hanging loosely at his simple leather belt. They were clearly made for someone of Braius's size, being large and heavy enough to require a two handed grip from most humans. The blades looked crude upon first inspection, being a bit misshapen and not having the crisp angles and lines of human or elven craftsmanship. However, they were strong, sharp, and decorated with Shantii symbols said to help a berserker channel his rage.

* * *

Eleriese was annoyed. Very annoyed. This strange human had stolen her stage. Not only that, he was dripping blood all over it. Worse still, demon blood. Ick. She stretched her body at the side of the tavern, preparing for her next dance, the Waltz of the Camillas, while barely paying attention to the man's words. She had traversed all over Aervana, and such sights were common in every tavern: Some glory-seeking hero, hoping to be the subject of the bard's future epics, proposing some perilous quest or another. Adventure was good and all - she had quite the taste for the unknown, herself - but what always irked Eleriese was the utter unoriginality of the questors. Their proposals always seemed to involve some kind of castle, or treasure, or princess, or demon. There was that one warrior whose quest involved a llama and magical tablecloths, but even then he only wished to traverse the known lands. The safe lands. To Eleriese, no adventure was worthwhile without venturing into new territories, exploring new lands, absorbing new melodies.

As she glanced toward the stage, she groaned slightly. Now the human was waving around a corpse. A demon corpse. Seriously, did he have to bring that out on her stage? She was going to dance there. It looked grotesque, extremely off-putting, and it gave off a pungent smell of rot. Having spent a brief time travelling the realms of the Shadowed, she was somewhat acquainted with such sights, but this human was going to drive away her crowd!

"As for the 'invitation' I bring..."

And there it was. The inevitable request for strong fighters and heroes. While she found it a rather boring show overall, Eleriese paid some attention to the people who volunteered, interested in those with a sense of adventure. Perhaps she could approach one of them to decide on her next destination.

The first who raised his hand was a Vanda Nomad, with short, dark hair and a scarf and chest plate. In other words, everything about him screamed "Warrior and Desert Person." In short, not worth her interest. The human's reply to his offer, however, caught her interest.

"I hope to become better acquainted along our journey. Your worldliness will be much appreciated, as we will be traveling through places I have not yet traveled. Now... are there any others who would like to come along?"

Oho. So he was venturing beyond the measures of safety. This might be more interesting than she thought.

Eleriese approached a nearby patron.

"Sorry, but what was the quest about again?"

The patron turned to her with an exasperated look, but quickly became friendlier when he took in her appearance.

"Oh, this man wishes to lead an expedition to the North; he thinks that the demons may have something to do with the decline of mana. Complete nonsense, of course, if there was..."

While the man trailed on, Eleriese blocked him out and considered. The world's declining mana meant nothing to her. While others may insist that the world was suffering, Eleriese knew otherwise; she had heard the songs of the birds, the tunes of the insects, and the breath of the wind. The world was perfectly content, at peace; it was the people living on it who were suffering. Eleriese was hardly an elf one would call immoral: she aided the needy when she came across them, often using her day's earnings to feed homeless children when she happened to dance in a city. However, time and experience had taught her that transient things such as "duty" or "honor" were useless. That said, the proposed quest was of interest to Eleriese for another reason: they were headed north. It was the direction in which she had hardly explored, rarely setting foot in its land. She ached to know what new melodies awaited her in that dark land, what elegies and lamentations were buried in the land...

She turned her attention back to the crowd, noticing that two others had volunteered. A Shantii warrior with particularly ugly swords and a tall, young, handsome Elf. While the design of the scabbard on his side made Eleriese raise an eyebrow - who puts the face of an old man on a sword's guard? - his dignified bearing and silent discipline made her groan. She recognized that air. An Elemental Knight. Probably one of those stuffy honor student types that always looked down on her, back when she was still trying to study magic. She could imagine his life now: a lifetime spent honing "magic energy" and "discipline"; or, as she preferred to call them, pretty lights and boringness. He probably graduated at the top of his class, enlisted with the Elemental Knights and rose to prominence. The thought of having to travel with a prude made Eleriese frown slightly, but this might be her only chance to travel to the Northern Lands - with an escort, no less.

Well, even if she didn't quite catch the Knight's name, there was no denying that he was quite the strapping young elf...

She raised her gloved hand and waved it around until she captured the human's attention. Walking up to the stage, to her stage, she spoke up.

"I'd like to tag along."

Gillem looked at the people standing before him. A Vanda swordsmaster, an elven elemental knight, one of the Shantii, and the elven dancer from the stage. There was definitely some variety in the fighting styles present, which struck Gillem as a good sign. This was more people than he had hoped would join him. He nodded to each of them. "I thank you for choosing to join me. I'd like to get to know you all during the journey." He turned back to the crowd. "Would anyone else like to join?" When no hands were forthcoming, he gave a bow. "I thank you for your time, and I apologize for the interruption." Looking at the people who had decided to go with him, he nodded, setting his mind to the task ahead.

"Let's go."

When they were outside, Gillem turned to the small group. "Now, I'd like to get to know you all, and you need to be acquainted with each other. I will not tolerate any racism or prejudices here. We're going to be like a family for a long while now. With that settled, I'd like us all to perform some introductions. I'll go first." He cleared his throat. "As you know, my name is Gillem. I am a warrior, and I prefer a longsword and a shield. I come from a smaller village west of Atlantica called Tangstead. I trained to become a warrior as a knight in the military, but I left 2 years ago, deciding that that was not the sort of life I wanted to live. I love this world, and while it may not be evident yet, I believe the constant drain of mana is hurting it. I'm no mage, and I haven't the slightest idea of how to use magic, but I still want to save this world. That's why I'm here today." He looked at the group. "That's a little about me. Who's next?"

"I!" said Olrien. He took a step forward and he stood in a relaxed effortless stance. He took a swig from his huge flask before continuing. All of them could see his unusually colored eyes that matched his Hair, both the color of Burnished Steel.

"I am Olrien Galessong, a proud member of the Galessong family. We are traditionally elemental Knights of Ice or Wind. I completed my training about 15 years ago, and have been wondering since, as Wind Knights do. As a Wind Knight we are not held by the same tenents as the other knights, all elements have their own traditions. Wind Knights like the wind itself are free spirits that wander the world in search of quests and people to aid. Like the Wind we are typically not held down in one place too long."

He then pulled his sword from his belt once again. "This is Winter's Gale, a sword that has belonged to my family for centuries." "This sword is a part of me, an extension of my very being, and will never be drawn without tasting blood. It is not for wanton destruction, but is a weapon of patience, and skill."

I have heard the mana was dwindling in this world, and now I have a chance to do something about it." He took a bow, and then stepped back to where he was, in one swift graceful movement.

* * *

Eleriese stood in the group of men, yawning. Introductions. Yay. She tuned out most of the speech, only paying attention to the name; not knowing their names might lead to awkward situations. As she waited for her turn, she glanced inside her bag to check that everything was there: two ribbons, a fan, a shawl, a pair of luminescent gloves, a pair of white flats, several bottles of luminescent body paint, a pair of sleeve extensions, and a bag of clinking coins. The load was relatively light - aside from the coins, of course - and made for quick travelling. As the grey-haired elf began to speak, Eleriese dug her bare toes into the gravel, enjoying the rough feeling of the world and absorbing the tiny sounds of the insects bustling around, feeling their vibrations through her feet and allowing them to resonate through her. As she immersed herself in this unseen world, the Elf's name caught her attention.

"I am Olrien Galessong..."

Wait. Olrien? That Olrien? The cute boy she used to play with? Eleriese squinted at his features. It was him, no doubt. She had somehow missed it before, but he had those nice, slate gray eyes, the same color as his hair. As he finished speaking and steeped back, Eleriese jump-tackled him and held him in a long embrace.

"Olly! It's been waaaaaaaaaay too long! How've you been?! You're a Knight, now? Wow... I knew it was going to happen eventually, but... wow..."

Eleriese disentangled herself from Olrien and took a few steps back, before bending over, crossing her hands behind her back and putting her face squarely in Olrien's field of vision.

"Don't you remember? It's me! Eleri!"

"Eleri!" Olrien had a huge grin spread across his face. "It has been forever Little Dancer, though I guess I can't call you that anymore, you are hardly the little elf girl I once knew." The village was so quiet without you around, Headmaster Gileas had no more ornery mage apprentices to yell at and scold. Well other than me anyway, I still gave him hell and made sure to make up for the amount you had given him when you left." He said the smile still stretching from ear to ear." He prattled off a few more names of people in the town and how they were doing. "My parents still not happy that I am a Windborn Galessong, wanting me to follow in Grandpa's and Father's shoes of Ice Magic, but I never took to that. Ice was never free enough for me, the rules too rigid, the armor too restrictive."

"I never know if I would see you again, Little Danc...shoot I need to stop calling you that..." He said a little bit flustered. "I've missed you quite a bit Eleri, you were one of the only true friends I ever had, so glad I found you again."

"I guess we're off to a great start then!" the Shantii interrupted. "Two of our group members here already know one another; it's nice to see people getting along so well." The large man offered a rather flamboyant bow, contrasting sharply with his simple leather clothing, some of which was more patches than original garment. The impression was further altered by a belch smelling strongly of alcohol. "Whoops, sorry about that. A small argument arose earlier; we were working it out when our human friend here showed up and stole everyone's attention. Lovely performance, by the way," he said, gesturing to the dancer.

"Anyway, though, I am known as Braius. I'll just say that my proficiency in battle relies on me getting very upset." He looked about with a broad grin. "Nice to get to know you little guys."

Eleriese clucked her tongue in amusement.

"A Berserker. Quite the... stereotypical profession for the Shantii. Not that it's a bad thing. I like you. Much thanks for the compliment; Shantii performers are pretty good, themselves. I've been around, and Shantii melodies do hold a charm of their own."

She turned toward the rest of the party.

"Oh, right. I haven't actually introduced myself yet. I'm Eleriese Fyrnhed. Kind of hard for non-Elves to remember, so Eleri's fine. That's what my friends call me. As you already know, I am a dancer. Probably the only Elvish dancer, I think. Everyone else wants to learn magic. Not me; dancing is my dream. My mana pool's too small for conventional magic, anyway."

She walked over to Olrien and threw an arm across his shoulders.

"Olly and I used to play all the time back when we were kids. He's a rebel. Well, not as much as me though."

Her gaze became harder.

"As for battle proficiency... well, I'm a dancer. I dance. That's about it. I can defend myself in close quarters, no problem, but brawling it out on the front lines? I'll pass. I'd rather not get demon blood all over myself. Ick."

Eleriese shivered with disgust at the prospect, then returned to the issue at hand.

"That said, I can help in other ways. If we're short in funds, I could probably - using a combination of perfectly moral and somewhat questionable means - get a decent amount of coin in a night if it's a lively city. Also, I've travelled the continent; I'm pretty familiar with the land. Also with edible berries. And inedible berries. And I do hear a lot of rumors in my various stints in taverns... that might possibly help? Also, I think I may have mentioned this before, but I can dance. Yeah."

In the ensuing atmosphere of awkwardness, Eleriese blushed a deep crimson, then mitigated it by pirouetting on the spot several times, ending in a deep curtsy.

"So, nice to meet you, and please take care of me."

"No need to worry Eleri, I am here, you will most definitely be safe." Said Olrien, a warm smile on his face.

"And nice to meet you as well Braius." said Olrien as he reached into a small bag on his belt. He pulled out a smaller flask, and he tossed it to the big brute of a man named Braius. "That ones on me, not sure if you will like it or not, it is bit iffy since it is a homebrew recipe I created. I call it Windsong. It isn't anywhere near a good fine Wine, or a mead, but it will do on the trail." after that little exchange Olly added "And for those of you who aren't drinkers, I can brew a mean tea as well. It is a family recipe, I'm sure Eleri remembers it pretty well, it was quite the thing back in the village, one of the reasons the Galessongs are so well known. Who would think a Family of Elemental Knights would be well known for making tea?"

Eleriese rolled her eyes at Olrien's boasting.

"Please. I remember your first attempts at brewing that. Still get nightmares about it some times."

She shuddered as she recalled the taste.

"More to the point, aren't we spending a bit too much time talking here? We're in the middle of the street and people are looking at us funny. We should probably quicken our pace...unless we're waiting for someone?"

Gillem cleared his throat. "Well, now that everything's settled, I think Eleri has a point. We shouldn't loiter in the streets. However, I was thinking that we might pay a stop at the inn." He yawned. "It's rather late, and we're in no rush. We only need to get to Sakiiri, and we have seven days to do it. We're going to meet a friend of mine there who should have some extra group members for us. Make your way to the inn whenever you're ready, and we'll meet back here tomorrow morning." With that, he turned off towards the inn. In a small town like Saarid, it wasn't hard to find. The whole town was pretty much one long road with shops and houses on either side.

Kho started to head off towards the inn, before taking a few turns and going to a small patch of trees. There, he drew his sword, Essence. It was not an intricately carved sword. It was simple, but not bland. It was just what its name described - the essence of a long sword. For that, it was beautiful. The blade gleamed silver in the moonlight, a sharp contrast to the black grip. In that small grove, under the light of the moon, Kho went through the intricate motions of his swordplay, scarf flowing behind him, until at last, in the early hours of morning; he fell asleep against a young sapling.

* * *

"I think I am going to hit the hay, see you in the morning Eleri." said Olrien as he started to walk off.

Olrien was was glad he had restocked his tea and alcohol brewing supplies earlier in the day, as now the stores were all closed, as he walking he noticed Kho duck off to the side out into the small forest near the town. Probably going to want to be alone, maybe practice his sword skills. Olrien thought to himself. It would be best to leave him be; I understand what he is doing and I wouldn't want to interfere with that.

Olrien went up to his room he had gotten in the inn the day, after anonymously buying everyone in the bar a round of drinks. He undressed from his day clothes, and got into a fine silk rode that he slept in. It was also a sky blue, accented with a grey the same color as his eyes. He then sat on the floor and meditated for a short time, He placed his blade across his lap unsheathed. Winter's Gale was its name. From the hand guard shaped as an old man's face, came a brilliant sky blue blade. It was shaped as a gust of air, as it swept into a curve. It was an ornately carved Katana, one that had been passed down in the Galessong family for decades, even centuries. He made his prayers to Cintiel. "Queen of the Skies, may your winds be in my favor, may they carry me and my companion's to safety, may they guide us on our journey."

Olrien then took the blade that sat on his lap, and took it to his own hand. It bit into his flesh gently, and cut cleanly and true. After he wiped the blood from the blade he stashed it away. Then he dressed the wound on his hand rather quickly to avoid getting any dirt in the cut.

"A blade is never to be drawn without reason; it must not be used for wanton destruction, or wayward whims and desires." He removed the blade tonight to remind himself of this tenet, a blade must not be drawn if it is not to taste blood. Before it shall be placed back into its home, it must fulfill its duty, to taste blood.

* * *

Eleriese watched as Olrien walked quietly into the night. Sighing, she turned and moved toward the inn.

As she opened the door, the young innkeeper looked up and gave her a slight smile.

"Eleri! It's been too long!"

Eleriese rolled her eyes at the innkeeper's dramatics.

"It's only been a month."

"Exactly! Too long!"

Eleriese's lips curled up slightly in a barely discernible smile.

"It's nice to see you again, Gram. I need a place to stay the night. Is the usual arrangement fine?"

Gram gave a quick nod.

"Certainly. But are you sure about it? I'll be more than happy to just give you a room, no charge!"

Eleriese laughed softly, a sweet, resonant laugh.

"Thank you for the offer, but I really need to dance. My feet are itching to move."

Gram moved from behind the counter and lit several of the candles in the lounge, illuminating a spot of empty space in the middle.

"Then, my dear, the stage is yours."

"One more thing..."

Eleriese's eyes lit up with mischief.

"...I need accompaniment. If you would...?"

Gram strode over to the wall and plucked an aged mandolin off a hook.

"Name a song."

Eleriese thought for a bit. She needed to dance, but she should perform a rejuvenating one to ensure she is well-rested...

"Hmmm... Play "The Arrival of Fresh Dawn", please."

"I see your favorites haven't changed much at all."

Gram started to strum the familiar tube on the mandolin, causing Eleriese's instincts to stir.

_"The morning breaks, the Sun reigns now;_  
_A sky of sapphire, no more the dark howls._  
_The dew in the forest, the songs of the jays,_  
_The morning comes now at the dawn of the day."_

As Gram sang, Eleriese's body moved of its own accord. She followed no routines, used no established techniques; her body simply followed the nuances of the melody, moving naturally, twirling, twisting, turning, leaping. As she danced, she felt the magic flow through her, changing as it flowed, converting into energy, refreshing her more than a night of rest possibly could. As she moved, she felt energy radiate out from her. The patrons sitting at the bar and lounge felt themselves energized, rejuvenated.

All eyes turned to look at Eleriese as she, together with Gram, wove an elaborate tapestry of music and movement. And thus did Eleriese dance the night away, praising the coming of the dawn.


	2. The Second Group

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **For this chapter you'll need some background information on the Dok, another race appearing in this chapter. The Dok, called the Shadowed by many, are the people of the Black Swamp, a land of death and lawlessness. A thick mist permanently settled over the area centuries ago, creating even more fear of the place. The Shadowed have dark gray skin and their faces and bodies are almost completely covered with painted designs. They have no whites to their eyes, only a consuming blackness. The Dok are short in stature compared to humans, and they are rather primitive. The weapons of the Dok are made from bones of those they have slain. There are rumors that the Dok drink the blood of those they have slain, but there is no evidence to support these claims. They are a race feared by all due to the occult magic they wield. The Shadowed are born with personal mana, and they also seem to slowly absorb mana from the world around them and creatures of magic. This gives them a large focus on magical abilities.**

"So you're the only ones coming along then, eh?"

The tall, bearded man looked at the people lined up in front of him. He had a fellow human, an elf, a vandal, and one of the blasted Shadowed. He'd had Rhea put up flyers in all the taverns that would allow it, and this was what he got? Four people? Well, these were bad times, and he supposed fewer and fewer people were learning how to read. But still... there should have been more than this, right? People must have really given up hope on this world.

"Naaaassshhh! NASH!"

That sounded like Rhea. Sure enough, as he looked into the large crowd of people in Atlantica, he could see her dark red ponytail poking up over the heads. It really did stand out. Almost nobody had red hair these days, and hers was a deep red. She seemed to be having some trouble maneuvering through the large crowd. Just as Nash started to move to help her out, her thin figure was spit out of the crowd and she tumbled to the ground.

"Owwww..." she said getting to her feet. Her white robe was smeared with dust and dirt now. The gold embroidering all along it seemed undamaged though.

"It's crazy in there during the market season. I know it's the capital city and all, but still..." She looked at the four people lined up by Nash and smiled. "I guess we did pretty good, huh?"

Nash put his face into his hands. "No Rhea," He mumbled through his hands, "This is not good. We only have four, and one is a blasted Dok!" He sighed. "Still, we don't have any time to lose. If we're going to catch up with Gillem, we need to get going. It'll still take us quite some time if we leave now." He adjusted the greatsword resting on his shoulder and walked towards the four. "Now, as you all should know, this purpose of this journey is to find the source of the declining mana in this world and stop it." He paused. "However, our first goal is to join up with Gillem, a friend of mine. To do that, we'll need to go through a lot of forest, and then much of the Shantii Desert. There will almost certainly be fighting along the way, and you are accountable for your own safety. We work as a group, though. Now..." He stretched. "Introductions. I need to know what we're working with here. My name is Nash and I'm a warrior. Greatsword style." he gestured towards Rhea.

Rhea waved at the four people. "My name is Rhea, and I'm a Healer." She bowed. "I'm pleased to meet you all."

"Alright," Nash said. "You guys are up. I don't care who goes first, but let's hurry it up. I'd like to get moving before sundown."

Alleria looked in despair at the others who had gathered here. The majority of the group was made up of humans. After the Evolutionary War Alleria had generally tried to avoid working with humans for extended periods of time so as not to accidentally be responsible for rekindling it. And now she was expected to travel with a human as their group leader. Joy of joys.

She hadn't known a human was behind the call to gather to find the source of the mana depletion, but as this was their capital city she should have expected it. She had thought only fellow Elves would be in tune enough with the mana to care of its declining; then again humans were selfish enough to care if only for having lost their own magical abilities. She could only hope they were able to hold their own in a battle should they be faced with one on the way to their destination.

Even worse than the humans was the Shadowed that was present. The Dok were generally avoided by the Elves for their ability to drain magic and their association with necromancy. She prayed this one wasn't a necromancer. Even a thief would be preferable.

Speaking of thieves...wasn't that a Vandal over there? Vanda Nomads had a reputation of being thieves and assassins. Just her luck. She didn't want to be associated with a criminal.

She heard the leader (Nash he said his name was) call for everyone to introduce themselves. She figured she should get her turn over with before she changed her mind and turned for home.

"My name is Alleria. I'm a mage as I'm sure most of you probably figured out by now," she said gesturing to her staff. She decided to just stop there in order not to risk saying something that would show her distaste for her companions. If they wanted to know more, they could ask.

A pair of light green eyes glinted mirthfully in the shadow of the cloaked human's hood. Under his gray cloak he wore a brown leather tunic with two diagonal buckles across it, as well as brown leather greaves, gauntlets, and boots. The elf in their group, apparently a mage- Not an easy profession at all these days, he thought to himself- was clearly uncomfortable standing among a group of humans. Her curt manner and leery eyes had given her away the moment she'd opened her mouth. Then again, he could not really blame her. Ever since the Evolutionary War, the Elves had been reticent to interact with most humans. This particular human thought that very idea was laughable. In times like these when even the most basic Healing spell was hard to cast for want of mana, people needed to band together instead of cowering in fear of one another.

Had he known there would be an elf present, he probably would have worn something less mysterious to make said elf feel more comfortable. However, he turned his attention back to the task at hand. Hopefully there would be time for the niceties of cloak selection after they had found out what was causing the mana to stop flowing.

The cloaked human stepped forward and removed his hood, revealing a head of close-cropped pale blonde hair. He gave each member of the party a light smile, and then addressed all of them.

"I am Roland Charleson. You may all refer to me as 'Roland' if you so choose. I specialize in use of my trusty daggers-" he said as he gestured to the long blades at his sides and the throwing knives on his breast- "and my shortbow. I suppose my fighting style is most similar to the Rangers that protect our lands due to my mix of extreme close-quarters combat and ranged combat. I'm quite skilled at moving unseen and unheard, as well." Roland cleared his throat and stepped back into the group, awaiting the other introductions.

Crag sighed and yawned as the others started to introduce themselves. _"These people don't seem to have much flare for introductions." _he thought to himself as the elf Alleria and the human Roland finished their introductions. _"The elf Alleria was her name may look pretty but she could be nicer when introducing herself. Hmm, Roland if he thinks he knows what unseen and unheard is he is going to be in for quite the surprise."___ Crag thought as he stood up, flourishing his finely made black cloak and lowering his hood to show his pale blue eyes and dark blond messy hair.

"My name is Crag Witherhide owner & provider of the grand shop known as Witherhides Fine Goods and the occasional collector of things that are lost. My shop as all you will need though these travels from half rotten cabbage to the finest of jewels and anything in between and I am willing to give each of you a companion discount as long as we are traveling," he said with bow.

"Other than services that my shop provides I am as skilled in sneaking, lock picking for those pesky doors that brute force can't break, the making and disarming of all manner of traps, and in the chance of a fight let's just say I am usually the last thing never seen." He said well flourishing one his many knives over his knuckles. "Now I believe that there's one more left to introduce herself." he said nodding to the Dok left in the group.

Turning towards them all and giving a fake smile was too difficult for the Dok to do since most of everyone generally hated Doks, and even more for Necromancers. _Well,_ she thought, _sooner or later I'd have to introduce myself. I should just be prepared for the heaps of hatred that will no doubt fall upon me. From all these races it would seem as if Alleria would hate me the most, seeing as we Necromancers can absorb their mana. Roland says he can move unseen and unheard and can range or close combat too. Crag is a thief with skills and owns the place with all these nice things. And I'm just a Dok Necromancer._ Then Crag nodded towards her as he finished his own introduction. She then took a sigh and step forward and introduced herself.

"I am Megaira, and yes I am a Dok and a Necromancer at that. I know we Dok are hated and we also absorb mana as well, but I intend to restore it quicker than we take it for my father's sake. I do not care much at all for your feelings towards me; I merely joined because restoring mana to the world would be easier and quicker in a group rather than just me. " With that she took a step back awaiting whatever comes next, let it be setting off with them all or just herself.

Roland smiled lightly as the Dok stepped forward to introduce herself to the company. However, his smile faded as she began to speak about how the Dok were hated. _That is why I am here, though,_ he thought to himself. As he looked at Nash, Rhea, Alleria, and Crag, he realized that most everyone would probably have some sort of issue with the Dok just based on her role as a Necromancer. _Why?_ he wondered. _Why can we not put our hate and prejudices aside, even under such dire circumstances as these?_ He sighed lightly, the sound barely noticeable above the din of the crowded city.

_Still,_ he continued thinking; _she is courageous for joining our group, especially knowing how most feel about her kind._ As he looked at the group again, he pondered the fact that although they would be facing the greatest trials of their time, they could barely be convinced to trust one another. _As long as she believes she is not trusted, she will not trust us, Roland realized._ He suddenly stepped out of line and approached the Dok, getting a little closer than most people would consider polite. He looked her up and down, then stared directly into the pools of darkness that served as her eyes. "You think we won't trust you," he stated.

Then, Roland broke into a smile and brought his hand up in front of him, offering Megaira a handshake. "We're all creatures of this world. Painted skin and a bit of magic should not be what prevents us from working together to cure it of its present illness."

Megaira first reaction to Roland was a small flinch. _No one has ever came this close and put their hand out except when they try to kill me in my sleep. I best be on my guard considering he has those daggers with him._ She then looked up looking in Roland's eyes.

"Excuse my flinch, no one has ever approached me this close with an attempt to kill me, and as I may agree with your statement the bad blood between us and all seems to never change. You may not see prejudices for the Doks but most if not all others do. No matter what I do the image painted onto others about us will only change little by little assuming they're willing to change it at all. You may have trust in me, but from the looks of things the others will not so give me their trust so easily and I too will not give my trust to you all as of this moment. May I ask you a question; do you not fear me even when the stories about us killing and making weapons out of other life forms not scare you?"

Roland chuckled quietly, keeping his focus on Megaira despite the temptation to look around and gauge the rest of the group's reactions to his friendly gesture. He kept his hand out, still waiting for the Necromancer to grasp it. He gestured to the knives on his hips and the wrapped longbow and quiver on his back as he spoke: "If I were truly afraid of you, my weapons would likely already be in hand. I have not survived this long because I am slow to react to danger. No, I do not fear you or your people, for just as your customs seem odd to us, ours may seem strange to you. I am not attempting to speak for the others in our presence. I believed that establishing trust between us would benefit the both of us, seeing as we will likely hold each other's lives in our respective hands." He continued to smile at her, moving his hand slightly to draw her attention to it. "And regarding your reaction to my earlier gesture, in these troubled times only a fool would not flinch at a hand being thrust at her."

Nash cleared his throat, looking at the man called Roland and the Dok. "I don't know about the two of you, but I'm in a hurry. We have a lot of ground to cover to catch up with Gillem. I recommend that we get moving while it's still light out. We need to get all the way to the Shantii capital in 7 days. On foot." He sighed, shaking his head. "Gillem sure left me with one hell of a task," he mumbled.

* * *

They had made good time for the first day. They were a few miles into the forests, and the sun was just setting. They had arrived at a small clearing in the forest.

"We'll stop here for today," Nash said to the group. "We have some dried food, but I'd like to save that for when we really need it. There's still some light now, so someone should nab us something to eat." He gave a meaningful look at Roland's bow. "You seem well-equipped for the job. Consider it your first test to prove your skill. I'm going to go get some firewood. The thief can help me. Rhea will cook whatever Roland catches, and you two..." he looked at Alleria and Megaira, "can prepare a fire pit. The mage can light it when we return with the wood." With that, he strode into the woods.

Roland nodded solemnly as he was assigned his task. He was not particularly surprised by the assignment, especially considering the fact that he was the only one carrying a bow among his group. He pulled the wrapped bow off of his back and took it out of its protective covering, admiring once more his prized bow. It was a piece of yew that was well over five feet in length, standing nearly as tall as Roland when it was not bent. He pulled a bowstring out of the buckled pocket on his belt and began to string his bow, taking extra care to ensure that the weapon was bent properly. He tested it a few times and, satisfied with it, turned to face Alleria and Mageira. "I am going to head out to the woods to hunt. Stay on guard," he reminded the unlikely pair as he strapped his quiver onto his back and strode into the forest.

The tracks were evident along the game trail. They seemed to be made by a herd of deer. _At least ten,_ Roland thought to himself. Two bucks would feed the group for the night and allow them to dry the rest of the meat, providing more dry rations for their journey. Roland tightened his grip on his bow and broke into a light jog, his gray cloak fluttering behind him as he approached another clearing. There were twelve deer visible and four of them had the beginnings of antlers. Roland ducked low in the brush of the forest and circled around the clearing to get a better shot at the first buck. Once I hit the first one, the others will begin to run, he thought to himself. He slowly drew an arrow from his quiver and put it to the bowstring, pulling it back with his back muscles and sighting the buck. "Directly for the heart," he whispered. He let the arrow fly and quickly nocked another, sighting the second buck. The first arrow impacted the deer perpendicular to the direction it was facing, punching through the thick shoulder muscle and penetrating the heart. The buck fell with a scream, causing the rest of the deer to run into the forest. Roland fired the second arrow, catching the second buck in the back left thigh and causing it to tumble forward. He sprinted into the clearing and jumped on the second buck's back, slicing its throat with one of his throwing knives. He pulled the arrow from its thigh, wiping it on the grass and returning it to his quiver. He approached the other and softly pat its head as it lay dying on the ground, then slit its throat and removed the arrow from its chest.

Roland sighed, then tied the two bucks together. It would be a long hike back to camp with them, but it was worth it to feed his group. Suddenly, Roland heard a scream of pain, followed by a rustling in the woods near him. He set the deer down and nocked another arrow, firing it toward the sound. Two men charged out of the woods, one with the arrow lodged in the shoulder plating of his leather armor. _Bandits!_ Roland realized. He fired another arrow at the one who had already been injured, taking him in the neck. However, the other had already closed too much for Roland to take him down with an arrow. The bandit charged in with a vicious horizontal swipe of his mace and a battle cry. Roland stepped back, the large metal head of the weapon barely missing his ribcage. He stepped in and swung his longbow in a sweeping arc toward the bandit's legs. It caught one between the string and the bow itself and Roland pulled viciously, taking the attacker's foot out from under him and causing him to fall to the ground. Roland then nocked another arrow and fired it directly through the bandit's eye, puncturing his brain and killing him. He pulled the arrow out of the bandit, and then searched him. Finding a few gold pieces and some dried food; he pocketed both and did the same to the other bandit. _Such animals deserve no mercy,_ Roland thought to himself as he began dragging the deer back to camp as quickly as he could. _Mageira and Alleria can likely handle themselves, but I should hurry just to make sure._

* * *

Listening to everyone's introductions, Alleria was surprised by the diversity in their fighting classes. Nash was a warrior and the human girl Rhea had introduced herself as a healer. That would surely prove to be a useful skill during their journey. The final human was a ranger, which rounded out their group quite nicely. Perhaps they had a chance to succeed after all.

While she wasn't surprised that the Vanda was a thief, she was shocked to learn he owned a store. She had thought Vandals avoided civilization, yet here one was operating a business. And offering to give them discounts at that. _"Although everything in the store is probably stolen,"_ Alleria thought to herself.

To her dismay the Dok was indeed a necromancer. At least they were on the same side for now. You never wanted to fall in combat to a necromancer as there was no telling what they'd do with your remains.

...Which was why she was so shocked when the ranger extended a gesture of friendship to the necromancer. Had the world gone mad!

Thankfully Nash chose then to give the order to move out. It appeared at least one other person was as uncomfortable with the exchange as she was.

Surprisingly they made good time, and the order was given to make camp at sunset. She was to make a fire pit with the Dok of all people and light it when Nash and the Vandal returned with wood. That left the two of them with only the healer, who was to cook after the ranger returned with meat.

...Alleria didn't actually know how to make a fire pit. It had never been her job before. Even on her travels she had relied on wild fruits, herbs, and berries between towns. She assumed it should be outlined with rocks so the surrounding grass didn't catch fire, but that was about the extent of her knowledge. Did you dig a hole and fill it with dirt or sand? Or just throw the logs straight in the pit?

Either way she wasn't getting her hands dirty. She placed a hand over the orb on her staff and began to chant in Elvish. A tiny crater appeared in the earth a short distance from her. Not really knowing what else to do, Alleria turned to the Shadowed. "You can finish this," she said. "I need to be ready when they return with the firewood."

* * *

Megaira thought that out of all of them, Roland seemed the most trustworthy. _But at the same time he may try to play me like a fool. The same goes for all of them. I am unsure of him but my trust is earned not given. I guess reaching towards his hand will make me seem non-hostile to the rest. Might as well shake it._ Megaira was then about to pick up her hand and return the handshake until Nash cleared his throat and began to talk about leaving now.

Walking towards the woods Megaira was reminded of her quest when she was alone. _Ah these woods, where do these trees take me again? I believe it was a place not to fond of Doks, but then again that's not being specific enough._ When the sun was setting with a clearing up ahead the group stoped to rest at the clearing. Nash then began explaining everyone's role in setting up the camp. After the explanation Megaira thought, _"So I stay here with the healer and mage, what joy"_ with sarcasm. Right before Megaira was about to dig a hole, Alleria began creating a small crater for the fire pit. When Alleria was finish she then told Megaira, "You can finish this; I need to be ready when they return with the firewood."

_Okay, I didn't know you had to be prepared for a simple task. No matter I'll just make the hole a bit bigger for the wood._ Megaira then approached the hole and began digging to make the hole wider and a bit deeper than from what it was before. _Oh wait; if they don't bring enough wood then the hole will seem like a complete waste in effort. I guess it doesn't matter I'll just make it as big as the ones I'd usually make when I sleep out._ After a few minutes working on the hole, Megaira then heard a noise from where Nash and Crag were. _Eh, if anything probable one of them drop some wood or they ran into an animal, no to worry about._

* * *

Crag walked a ways into the forest with the human Nash picking up dry fallen branches and twigs along the way making sure to get different sizes of each so the fire would burn nicely all in silence. Crag never liked to travel in forests that much so many places where any manner of things could be hidden. Well he was sure he would have no problem getting out of any problem he might run into, he was uncomfortable at leaving the ladies alone in the camp. For if they were set upon by any manner of things especially if they had ranged weapons it could get quite troublesome for them.

Shaking his head to get such thoughts out of his mind and telling himself to stop underestimating them for between them they have all forms of magic even if the mana of the world was dwindling and besides if he underestimated them to much it would not be that profitable to him either.

"So Master Nash if you don't mind me asking what motivated you to journey on this quest as well? And what can you tell me of this Gillem person we are in such a need to meet?" Crag asked Nash well continuing to collect firewood.

Nash grunted as he picked up some heavier branches and then turned to look at the thief. He was taken a bit off guard by the question. They had been collecting wood in silence and he had been lost in his thoughts. "Well..." he started, thinking of what he wanted to say, "I suppose it was Gillem who talked me into all of this. I met him a few years back, after I had finished a mercenary job with a caravan. We passed a few drinks around, and got to talking about Aervana. He convinced me that the world is dying, and quite frankly, I believed him. I swear that lad could talk anyone into anything. I've been fast friends with him ever since. As for who he is, well... he's a young one. At least ten years younger than me, probably more. He's got a way with words and could make you believe in almost any cause. He's great with a sword, though not as great as me." He grinned as he said that. "But... he's too kind. It's a weakness of sorts. He's much too friendly, especially for these times, almost to the point of being gullible." He straightened up after grabbing a branch. "Well, I think we've got enough wood here. Let's head-" He froze. There was a slight rustle in the bushes that quickly quieted. Nash leaned a little closer to Crag and whispered.

"We're not alone. Act natural, but be on guard. I don't think they know that we heard them. I left my armor back at camp, so we'll need surprise. On 3, in those bushes. 1...2...3!" He drew his sword off his back and charged. A man quickly stood up from the bushes, knife in hand. Nash dispatched him before he had time to raise it. Suddenly more charged from the bushes behind them, all armed with swords. Nash counted 4. "Damn. Bandits. I can't even get off easy on the first day..." Nash mumbled. He raised his sword on nodded to Crag. "I'll distract them. Guess it's time for you to do your thing and disappear. Just don't decide to run off on me." He grinned and charged forward.

"Well you don't have to worry about running away after all that wouldn't be that profitable for me at this point but your right disappearing would be the best course of action for me. Well at least after I make this a little fairer." Crag said as he threw a six of his knives at the bandits.

Three of them hit his steel one and two of the iron ones he threw well the others either got stuck in a tree or the ground. His steel one hitting the one bandit in the right eye causing him to yell out in pain but not killing him while the one of the iron knives hit one bandit in the thigh and the other iron one hit another bandit in the arm. Crag disappeared into the woods with the two bandits with minor wounds chasing after him, leaving Nash to deal with the one that just lost an eye and an uninjured one.

Crag was amusing himself with playing a game of cat and mouse in the forest, him being the cat of course. Well Crag may be more comfortable sneaking around towns and cities these bandits where not much of a challenge compared to the guards of such places. Every time the bandits would seem to lose him he would show himself just long enough for them to see him or throw a few more knives at them. By the time Crag had grown bored of his little game and was resting in a tree above the two bandits (he had decided to name the one he got in the thigh Bob and the other one Felix). He had added a few more wounds to them Bob was now unable to move his left leg without a very noticeable limp and was bleeding from a wound above his right eye where it almost took out his eye as well. Felix on the other hand was a little better only having taken a knife in side which was still bleeding.

Crag having grown bored of this game decided to end it. Dropping down from his perch causing the two to jump he threw a bronze knife at Bob well Felix charged him. Hitting Bob in his shoulder he went in to motion pivoting on his right foot dodging Felix's charge well bring his right hand holding a sliver dagger on the back of Felix's knee causing Felix's knee to give out and him to fall to his knees as Crag pivoted on his left foot bringing him back around with his left hand holding a sliver dagger with a ruby in it straight at Felix's throat."I may have left most of my kin but I am a Vanda and I know how to fight." Crag thought to himself as he pulled the dagger out of the bandits throat and wiped it on the bandits cloths. Looking at the other bandit who had fallen on the ground after he had taken the knife in the shoulder Crag thought while walking up to him and hitting him with the hilt of his silver dagger knocking him out. "Well I guess I should head back to Nash right now hopefully his bragging of his sword skill was not for not," Crag said as he finished binding the bandit and started to drag him back to the place the left Nash with his ruby dagger at the ready, all the while looking for any of his knives he might of lost in the game.

* * *

Nash sighed to himself as the thief threw his knives at the bandits, and then ran away with two of them following him. When he said he should disappear, he meant to sneak attack them while Nash had them distracted, not to run off while being pursued. Whatever. If anything happened to him, it was his own fault. Either way, Nash was left with two bandits to deal with. One was injured where Crag's knife hit his eye, and the other was fresh and looked fairly angry. Nash ran forward towards the uninjured one first. The bandit swung his longsword as Nash approached. Nash brought up his greatsword to deflect the blow, and then used his momentum to ram the bandit with his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. By now, the other bandit had made his way over and was swinging his sword at Nash. Nash started to position his shoulder guard to deflect the blow as he usually would have, before quickly realizing that he wasn't wearing it. He quickly stepped the other way, but the sword still grazed his left shoulder. Nash cried out at the wound. In his anger, he swung his greatsword with all his strength in a vertical swing. The bandit raised his sword to deflect it, but the weight of Nash's greatsword and the strength behind it were too much for the cheap longsword. It snapped in two, and Nash's blade ripped open the front of the bandit. Nash turned to face the other bandit, scrambling to his feet, looking afraid of what he had just seen. Nash quickly dispatched him as well, and then examined his left shoulder where he had been hit. The wound was fairly deep and oozing blood. It was difficult to move his shoulder now that the adrenaline from the battle had left him. "I'll have to have Rhea look at this one," he thought to himself, before starting off towards where the thief had run off to.


	3. Kozuto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time I'll be giving you background on the Vanda Nomads, a race that has appeared in the last two chapters. Understanding them will be important to understanding this chapter.
> 
> The Vanda nomads are the wandering people of Aervana. They have a tanned skin tone, not dark but not fair either. They are the target of much prejudice among the other races, called "Vandals" and believed to be no more than thieves. They believe in simplicity, and live without excess. They do not enjoy battle, but rather solemnly acknowledge any slain foe. Renowned across Aervana for their battle prowess, the Vanda nomads are all but extinct now. Vanda legend tells of a nomad who stole the secret of eternal life from the elves. The elves then hunted down the Vanda in a fury to extinguish all knowledge of such a secret. Even the best warriors of the Vanda were no match for the elves fury. However, one nomad had traveled across the world, learning all the secrets of battle, and using the knowledge he had gained, he defeated many elves. The legend states that he passed this knowledge to the other nomads and they were able to fight back and drive off the elves to preserve their race. This man, Veda, is hailed by the nomads as the first of the great Vanda warriors and the cause of their revered status today. These days, the few surviving Vandas keep to themselves and try to stay away from civilization.

Gillem arrived at the designated meeting place fairly early. He had expected to be the first one outside the tavern, but Kho was already there, looking ready to get moving at a moment's notice. Gillem called out to him as he approached. "Hey there! You're certainly up early." He gave a knowing grin. "Can't say I blame you, though. I'm itching to get started as well."

Kho turned to face him. "I just... don't like staying in one place for very long,"he mumbled, looking off in the distance. "I guess it's just the way we nomads are."

Gillem watched the calm man. He was quiet, that was for sure, but he was also cool and collected. Gillem wanted to get to get to know him; to give him someone to open up to. _"Well,"_ he thought, _"I may not be having much luck with that now, but we have the whole journey ahead of us. By the end of all of this, I expect I'll have become good friends with all of our group."_

For now, there was nothing to do but wait for the others.

* * *

Olrien awoke bright and early. He went out wander town a bit before meeting everyone for the journey.

After about 2 hours he started to wander towards the meeting place, He could see Kho and Gillem from a distance. He strode up quickly and gracefully to meet them. He was not sure if either of them would notice the fresh binding on his hand from the self-inflicted wound from last night, but he didn't care. His tenets were his tenets, he didn't care if the men didn't understand it.

"Lovely Morning isn't it, Sir Gillem?" said Olrien in a pleasent voice as he strode in. "Oh, and Greetings to you as well Kho."

"I hope you gentleman don't mind a bit of music." he said rather excitedly. "Though I am no Bard I do play music. I have to say the magic they weave with theirs is astounding, Sadly, we Elves don't have much talent for that. We all want to learn traditional magic." He pulled out a small wooden Flute and begin to play a simple tune. Though it was simple, it was rather beautiful and upbeat, having a tinge of sadness in it. It was a subtle touch on the song, it might not have been noticed if you weren't listening closely.

Braius, after dressing himself and undergoing his various morning rituals, strolled out of his room and toward the meeting area, a bit bleary-eyed but wide awake. When he arrived, Olrien was just beginning his tune. He closed his eyes contentedly, listening to the tune. "Ah, brings back memories. . ." he said when the song ended. "Haven't heard that one in a while; it's a lovely piece, but I can't recall the name of the tune." He fished about in his pack for a moment, but evidently did not find what he was looking for. "Must have forgotten it. Anyway, I'd love to hear more of that sometime."

"That's Requiem of the Past Age, isn't it?"

Eleriese popped up behind the gathered group, her ears twitching and her footsteps light.

"Well? Don't stop, keep playing! It's been too long since I've heard an Elvish flute.

Without waiting for a response from Olrien, Eleriese lightly stepped up to Gillem and offered up a small hand as an invitation.

"Would you join me for a dance? You can learn a lot about a person by dancing with them."

Gillem gave an awkward smile to the elf. "Well, I'm not much of a dancer, nor am I familiar with elven songs, but I suppose I'll give it a shot. You'll just have to lead the way," he said, removing his gauntlets and taking up her hand. The elf's small, smooth hands made Gillem's seem large and rough by comparison. "Alright Olrien," he said, grinning, "Strike up a song!"

Kho watched as the group leader took the elf's hand. From what he had seen in his travels, it would take a remarkable chance for two such people of their respective races to meet. Most elves resented humans, and vice-versa. There was a similar relation among the remaining Vanda and the elves, a remnant feeling from their battle, centuries ago. But Gillem and Eleriese seemed perfectly at ease around each other. He looked off into the distance. _"Perhaps there is hope for this world after all..."_

"Well, best not Keep you waiting!" Said Olrien rather excitedly. He began to play the song again form the beginning. Requiem of the Past Age was one of his favorites, so he had no qualms about playing it again.

He played the song this time really getting into it. He tapped his foot, and moved about while he played. He tried to keep the rhythm as best he could for Eleri and Gillem; Eleri would kill him if he didn't. He made extra sure to keep the tempo in-line, so that they could dance smoothly. Olrien was glad they were having a good time.

He wondered if Kho would join in. He doubted it, the man seemed a bit too reserved. But it would have been grand to see him have some fun. Olrien then wondered how the others would react when they saw it. He wondered if they would join in or just stare.

At a certain point, people started gathering around, wondering what was going on. They came to hear the music that was playing. Some people even started to dance along and have a grand old time. Others that knew the song joined Olrien in playing it, including an older gentleman, with a dusty old mandolin. Soon a big crowd gathered, and it became a giant dance floor in the middle of the square. There was much laughing and movement and so much cheer, it was like everyone forgot their troubles for that moment in time. It was, for that short amount of time, a place where the world's troubles seemed to melt away and everything seemed right with the world.

Eleriese guided Gillem through the steps of a simple waltz. Foot after foot, step after step, she came to understand Gillem, to see his hopes and thoughts.

Rough skin, but gentle hands. He had seen conflict, but he was not one who enjoyed it.

A step occasionally too far, but never too short. An earnest individual, without a fear of the unknown. Possibly prone to naivety.

Light, tentative steps during the more complex movements. A careful, dilligent person. A man who wished not to offend.

Through such slight clues, Eleriese formed a profile of Gillem.

Oblivious to the gathering crowd, the human and the elf danced as one, probing; feeling; understanding.

Gillem was winded. He was not used to dancing, and it was especially difficult in his heavy armor. Still, he was glad he had participated. He felt like he had come to know Eleriese much better - like a connection through dancing. However, the music had now ended, and most people had already left to their business after thanking Olrien. He looked around. He knew Eleriese and Olrien were both here due to their participation. Kho didn't appear to have moved an inch from where he was standing when the dance began. He looked for Braius, before eventually spotting the tall Shantii's head in the dwindling crowd. 

"That was some nice playing," Gillem said, trying to catch Olrien's attention. "You were definitely being modest when you said elves don't have much talent for music." He gave an earnest smile. "With you and Eleriese along, it's almost like having our own private troupe. I'll have to call on your talent again sometime."

"Thank you Gillem, I will be sure to play so Eleri can dance when she wants." Olrien looked over at her, it still felt like a dream to him. He thought he would never see her again, and never have a chance to tell her how he felt. He then realized he was still talking to Gillem. He wondered if the man noticed him space out there.

"Do remember though Gillem I am still a warrior by trade. I picked up the flute because of a tenet I follow. I needed something to channel myself into since I will not draw my blade unless necessary." Olrien had a rather stern looking face come over him. "A blade is not meant to be drawn unless you mean it. It is a tool that brings only destruction. However, it should never be wanton destruction or for pleasure. One should only draw their sword to defend against evil, or to protect those he cares about." this last line he looked directly at Eleri when he said it. He looked at Gillem straight in his eyes, Olrien's eyes glowed like freshly made steel. "I don't expect you to follow my tenets good knight, however I want you to know I am serious and will do what it takes for this cause." Olrien's face relaxed a bit.

" I look forward to this journey, and my sword will join yours so long as it deems you worthy. And so far it has."

Gillem looked around making sure he hadn't missed anyone. Olrien, Braius, Eleriese, and Kho were all accounted for. He clapped his hands once to gather the group's attention.

"Alright!" he shouted, his excitement bubbling to the surface. "After that extended break, it appears that we can finally move out. As I said earlier, we're headed for Sakiiri, and we should have plenty of time to make it there. It's a few days walk north from here, mostly desert, so I hope everyone is prepared." A wide grin was spread across his face by this point. "Ah..." he said, breathing in the air, "there's nothing quite like traveling. Let's get moving!"

Kho could agree with Gillem about that. There was nothing else like traveling. He had wandered Aervana his whole life, and there were still sights he hadn't seen. He was in a relatively good mood, now that they were going to be moving. A hint of a smile appeared in the corner of his mouth, and he gripped the hilt of his sword before releasing it shortly thereafter; it was an old habit he had picked up while in training with his master. Suddenly, he turned around to look behind them. He had a strange feeling that he was being watched, but didn't see anyone in the immediate area. He turned back to the group and focused his attention on the journey. It promised to be an exciting one.

* * *

Drawn by the sound in the town, Kozuto looked out from the alchemist's house to a crowd gathered.

"Wretches, it must be another drunken brawl." He spat. "And this early in the morning."

The alchemist looked up, clearly amused, in part that he had to service a Vanda Nomad, but more so that this customer was so knowledgeable in the art of herbivore, surpassing his own, but kept his mouth shut.

After the alchemist had obtained two new glass bottles, Kozuto nodded in affirmation, giving the man a seldom seen branch of Whooping Willow. However, the shopkeeper knew that this would be all the man would offer up, so he shut his door on the young lad.

As Kozuto began his departure, a harpy that had been circling the sky flew straight up.

_An omen from the spirits,_ he thought. Strangely enough, the creature was above the crowd, so it must have meant there was something of value to him there.

Watching from the acropolis of the region with the hawk's vision that Kozuto requested of his ancestor spirits, he decided that whatever was down there was not essential in his journey. Though, he was pulled by the distant sound the the music, thinking it couldn't hurt to scout out what was happening.

The eyes of the hawk were given up for the ears of the owl so that he could better hear the music on his walk down.

"A fine tune, this one."

Despite his failure to learn great nature magics, Kozuto had one he could always rely on: the summoning of small natural environments, be it trees, tiny dunes, or grasses, in a small, but quick fashion. Every half mile or so, he would cast up some form of environment to avoid being seen. There was a Nomad in that group, Kozuto was sure of that. The harpy earlier had ascertained that. In almost a giddy way, he chased the group. While he was no thief or light-footed character, his previous family life had taught him the value of staying quick and silent on his toes. However, as soon as he noticed there were elves traveling in the group, it was no longer a matter of staying silent: he had to save the Nomad. He ran up ahead, staff in hand, followed by a hunting dog and a sand surfer, a sort of large parasitic-looking creature that burrowed under the earth, planning to take the elves by surprise.

A quarter mile before he would attack, one of the elves looked back, the same one that looked so diligently so frequently, straight at Kozuto. Eye to eye with his most hated breed, he halted. The wind snapped at his fabric robe. The dog had come to a standstill, sitting on its tail, not oblivious, but maintaining serious composure. The surfer advanced to Kozuto last, slowly circling around the Nomad and the beast. Dust gathered in his hair, making a dirty, blonde color. A whistling noise sailed by in the breeze. Softly blew the wind at that moment.

* * *

Feeling the very currents of the wind Olrien knew something was amiss while they were traveling, he however didn't want to alert the group until he was sure something was amiss though. Everytime he thought he had caught wind of the danger, it was like it vanished, he would feel the vanish, as something would suddenly move the flow of the wind. This is why Olrien felt most at home in open fields and areas, since it gave him the edge in combat and scouting.

However, soon the danger gave itself away. It had became reckless, Olrien turned to face it.

He saw a male Vanda, being followed by a big hunting dog, and a strange creature he had never seen before. Olrien stared at the man for awhile, his hand on the hilt of Winter's Gale. Olrien bended the winds to send messages to the group, to try and not alert the Vanda man that he was currently staring down.

To each of the warriors he sent them a message, a call to arms to meet him at his side and to be alert. He sent this to Kho, Braius, and Gillem.

To Eleri he sent this message. "Eleri, we got danger, try to not to let on to knowing this, I got a bad feeling about this Vanda, I have already alerted the others with the winds, try to be safe Little Dancer."

Kozuto had the group evenly matched. The only female traveler there wielded no visible weapon, so she would not fight. Surely, the other Nomad would fight alongside him. There would be no reason not to. Looking to his left, the dog was sitting there, its grey fur fanning in the wind. Kozuto looked at the group as the surfer circled slowly, then descended into the earth. Kozuto requested the creature dig under the surface and move under the group of six. The plan would be simple. When the surfer leaped from the earth, it would knock back the Vanda Nomad to safety, where he could use his bow, while he himself, the dog, and the surfer would fight the elves. As for the human and Shantii, he had not a clue. He was taught not to bear prejudice against the species, as they were not hostile without reason. If the man and Shantii decided to join the battle alongside the elves, then he would try to isolate them by building up a barrier of thick sand dunes. With the plan set, Kozuto was nearly ready to execute it.

Seconds before he would begin, the elf who had been looking at him pressed his hand to his blade's hilt. At that moment, the wind completely died. Kozuto had trouble swallowing. He had dealt with assassins, rangers, and incredible warriors, but never another magic-user like himself. Suddenly, a strange thought bubbled in his mind: the only users of magic he knew were his father, himself, and this new threat. He and his father did not technically use magic, though. Simply borrowed the energy that flowed through Nomadic ancestry.

At the risk of his life, Kozuto would play it safe.

"I do hope you speak the universal language, elf. A poisonous creature stirs beneath your feet. You will relinquish your ownership on the Nomad there, turn your back, and we will leave without..." He could not finish the thought. Looking towards the ground, he stared in the sand. If the Nomad were fully armed and freely moving along with the group, then could he really be subject to the elves?

He closed his eyes. He opened them. "What business have you in this desert?"

"We are simply travelers passing through, Sir." said Olrien "We are currently on a quest to restore mana to the world." He removed his hand from the hilt of his blade.

"If you wish to know more then Gillem, that handsome human man over there, can tell you more." The wind gently blew his hair, as it begin to blow again. The sun shone down as his steely grey hair, it glowed like newly forged steel. Olrien's stance relaxed, he tried to remove all signs of hostility from himself as to not startle the obviously upset and somewhat confused Vanda man.

Admittedly, Kozuto felt relieved that the elf released the grip on his blade. It could make an attack easier.

"'Simple travelers' are not Nomads who travel alongside elves. I am inclined to distrust you" he bluntly said. A trait of his was his brutal honesty. If he knew either the recipient of his words would not be offended or he did not care, he wouldn't need to lie.

Questing across the land to restore mana to the world. It sounded too weak a persuasion.

"Human. Gillem, is it? Does this elf not lie? I should very much like to see from another perspective. And brother Vanda. Can you confirm that you are not their... property?"

All this while, the sand surfer was slowly ascending towards the surface. He could feel it. If the travelers made one wrong move, he would be prepared to strike.

Braius was at the ready, already poised on the razor's edge. Outwardly, he only displayed a slight tenseness as he gripped his katar. Inwardly, he was fighting a battle to keep the inner beast in check until it was needed. He didn't trust the Vanda, either. Then he felt it. A slight trembling in the ground below. Faint, but noticeable to him.

"Call it off. NOW," he growled at the suspicious stranger.

Eleriese poked her head out behind Olrien's broad shoulders. The hostile Vanda was standing quite a distance away, staring at the group with what was clearly suspicion. The tension in the air was stifling, and she was rather concerned that it might have affected her complexion. Eleriese sighed in exasperation. Everyone needed to just calm down and work out the problem. Of course, that was likely too much to expect of men.

She noticed Braius tense up.

"Call it off. NOW."

Call what off? Unable to resist her natural inclination towards curiosity and a total lack of self-preservation, Eleriese closed her eyes and listened to the rhythms in the earth.

A slow rumbling; A soft growl; the earth shifting beneath her; Eleriese recognized these patterns. A sand surfer. Not exactly common around these parts, but not quite an impossible sight. Having to burrow underground, surfers were highly attuned to vibrations in the earth, which alerted them to obstacles or danger under the sand, where visibility was impossible. In fact, there were several traditional Vanda dances attributed to the movements of the surfer, a series of steps which were created as a method of domesticating the surfers by calming them through very specific footwork. Everyone needed to calm down, there was a creature, right here, whose natural rhythms had been incorporated into a calming dance. Perfect. Therefore...

Eleriese focused and synchronized her breathing with the pulse of the surfer, feeling said pulse through the slight throbs throughout the ground. Then, with perfect grace, she began to move her feet quickly and systematically, the number of taps, the angle of the turns, all executed with pinpoint precision. Then, she began to transition from her memorized steps to her intuitive steps: she began to feel the natural rhythms of the surfer - she began to dance.

Being a Shaman, Kozuto felt a deep connection with the inhabitants of the planet. With that strong connection, he was able to call on animals, who were his most loyal companions. Unlike people, they did not talk back. At least, under normal circumstances. For the reason of his deep connection animals, he could feel his bond with the surfer loosening, but not leaving. It became more of a slow-pulsing bond. Looking past the warriors, there was a female elf, the one without a weapon. It had seemed that her eloquent dance had somehow calmed the surfer. In addition, because Kozuto was bonded with another animal, the dog, it also calmed, curling up. Realizing that he had lost his animals' allegiance, he huffed a breath out, lowering his shoulders. He, too, felt more at ease. The animals he shared bonds with he also shared his senses with.

"You seem to have me overwhelmed." As much as he hated to say it, it was the truth. "My name is Kozuto. I will not attack, but I will act on my own accord."

Kho quickly approached the group. He was angry at himself for brushing away his instincts. He had thought they were being watched, but he had let his happiness at starting the journey distract him. As he approached their follower, he became more enraged. It was a Vanda. It was people like this, moving in the shadows and attacking travelers, that gave the Vanda their bad reputation. He drew his sword and pointed it at the one he knew could only be a shaman, based on his knowledge of his people's unique skill. The man had already surrendered, but Kho didn't care. "Why are you following us?!" He was close to shouting, while still trying to keep his usual composure. It was rare for him to risk losing control like this, but there was nothing he hated more than those of the Vanda who gave them their bad reputation. His sword arm was trembling in his anger.

"Kho, lower your weapon."

He felt a hand on his shoulder as Gillem brushed past. Reluctantly, he lowered his sword, suddenly ashamed of his outburst. He closed his eyes, gathering his composure once more.

Gillem was surprised at Kho's unusual show of emotion, but there were more pressing matters at the moment. He walked up to the Vanda who had followed them.

"Kozuto, was it? I would also be interested in knowing what your business here is." He gestured to Kho. "Our Nomad, Kho, is here of his own free will. As Olrien has said, our goal is to replenish the world's mana. Kho volunteered to join me on this journey. He was actually the first to do so, and I appreciate that just as much as I appreciate the dedication of every other member. We're a small group with a goal. Now, what is your reason for being here?"

At first, Kozuto thought he had been doing the Vanda a favor. He would have saved him, if not for this turnabout for the better. Not only are the elves not resentful towards him, but the human, too, was no enemy. Even the Shantii held his anger behind him. The only one who was a hostile was the other Vanda, funny enough.

"Funny," he said to himself, but rather loudly. "My reason for being here was to liberate the Vanda traveling with you. Now I find that not only do I not need to save him, but I am faced with my least favorite race making reasonable talk with me."

Kozuto cleared his throat. "I should like to tag along. At least as long as I can. Here I am offered a chance to repair relations between my race and the elves. Should you deem my presence worthy in your travels, I would like to move with you. My animals, they are smart and resourceful. Should anyone fall ill, I can help. I-" He stopped. Like earlier, when he discovered that there was a Vanda in the group, he also started letting his emotions drive him.

"I apologize. It's been too long since I've had proper discussion with anyone. For the longest time, I have traveled alone. I would like to prove my usefulness. I would like to help."

_With anyone who does not point their sword at me,_ Kozuto thought, eying this "Kho".

Braius relaxed, letting the repressed anger drain away. He loosed his hold on his weapons and put them back in their sheaths, then walked quickly up to the newcomer. He stuck his hand out abruptly, fingers extended for a handshake. "Good to have another person in the group." Hopefully, showing trust would beget the same in return; or, at least, the newcomer would show his true self more quickly if he meant to betray them.

Olrien was glad that Koz backed down, there was no need for his blade to taste blood this day. It was a good feeling since Olrien hated having to kill, it was not something he ever looked forward too. His sword was a testament to that, what people didn't see under the sheathe was an elaborate design that made looked like tears. The groove was also forged in such a way, that when blood slide off of it it looked like the Man's face on the hilt was weeping for the the nearly departed. Winter's Gale, or it more commonly known name of Blood Tear was a pretty storied sword, even though it wasn't magical in the slightest, only a work of art and master craftsmanship.

Olrien felt a bit sorry for Koz though. He had not got what he thought would happen. He had no idea the only one who would end up hostile to him was the one he had been there to "save". The man must have been really confused and shocked. Olrien noticed Brauis try to make good with the man. Olrien noted that Braius had very good control of his emotions, some Berserkers would have flown of the handle in that kind of scenario.

Olrien awaited his turn to greet Koz, he wanted the man to feel comfortable around him. For now he bent the winds to send him a message. "Happy to have you along Koz, and I would be happy to help you repair the bonds between our race. I might speak with you later." That was the very message he sent.

Taken aback by the openness of the Shantii, he nearly flinched. However, he shook the firm hand of the warrior. Or, perhaps, he was a berserker. But the Shantii couldn't have been a beserker. He was too in control of his emotions. Then again, Kozuto was no better at controlling his, so he could have been a berserker.

"Thank you, Braius."

As he shook Braius's hand, he heard the wind itself speak to him. That couldn't be right. In a puzzled manner, he looked around, almost about to ask what was the cause when he recalled the end of the message about the reparations between races. He smiled in a sly way, already impressed with the charisma of the elf.

Gillem gave a clap and a wide grin. "Well, it's settled then. Welcome to the group! I assume by your appearance that you've been traveling awhile, but I want to make sure you're prepared. We're heading for the center of the desert, so make sure you have a full waterskin, and supplies to last. Granted, I've brought enough for this small group's meals, but you never know what could happen. It should only take a few days to get to Sakiiri, where we'll wait for Nash and the group he should have." As he left the group to prepare, Gillem pulled Kho aside.

"If you don't mind me asking, what caused that outburst? I see no reason to be suspicious of Koz. He came here to try to rescue you, after all."

Kho met Gillem's eyes. "I hadn't known his purpose at the time, but I have a strong... dislike for those who sneak around. Sneaking into a bandit camp is one thing, but sneaking around an innocent group just outside of town is another. Such an activity implies thievery, or worse. It is not the way of the Vanda, despite what many think." He looked away. There was also the other reason he disliked thieves and the like, but he was not about to reveal that to Gillem.

Gillem nodded. "I understand. However, I think it would do much good for you and Koz, as well as the rest of the group, to settle these differences. We won't continue until this is done. When there is disruption in a group, it only expands if unattended."

Kho grimaced. He felt childish giving this apology, like when he was scolded by his master as a child. He wasn't fond of speaking in general. Nevertheless, he was going to do it. He approached Koz. "I'm sorry for my previous aggression. I had thought... that you were a thief, or some other... unconventional profession. I do appreciate your attempt to rescue me, but I am a bit curious where you got the notion that I was in captivity..." He trailed off and looked away. He fidgeted with his sword as he waited for a response.

The Nomad had met his eyes, but then took them off. That would make Kozuto's response much more awkward. Kozuto looked to the side, trying to find a distraction in the dog. He bent, scratching its neck. Looking up, he realized it would do neither of them any good if silence was his solution. He stood up, feeling rather devoid of emotion.

"It's, uh.. not a problem. I would rather this be awkward than uncomfortable, so..." While he had never bowed before, he did so now, feeling off-weight and light. "Hello. My name is Kozuto. I am.. not a light-footed wanderer," he said, failing at being evasive on the matter, "but a shaman. Concerning my wild notion earlier.. Well, a lot of people don't care for the Vanda. I.. seem to have been wrong in this case." Kozuto opened his mouth to say more, but he had a feeling that it would not be appreciated by this other Nomad. So he gave a short nod. Or perhaps it was too drawn out. It might have been that. Even in his thoughts, he rambled. Perhaps his lack of inner peace and stability was to blame for his failing magics.

At any rate, he turned to his one remaining animal companion, the dog. He removed his satchel, tightening it to the body of the animal, leaving on his body only an empty vial and another vial of a thick, purple liquid- simple, effective healing remedy.

He nodded to himself, prepared to move, staff in hand.

As Kho walked away, he thought about what the other Vanda had said. They seemed to have been raised under different circumstances and beliefs, which admittedly, was not all that uncommon among a scattered nomadic people without so much as a single city to call their own. In the small group Kho had been raised with, shamans were almost a legend. The stories told of their abilities were no doubt stretched beyond reality, but those sorts of rumors usually stemmed from a truth. Koz was certainly the opposite of himself from what he had seen. While Kho relied on his speed and skill with a blade in battles, along with minor use of his shortbow, Koz seemed to have been able to call the very creatures of Aervana itself to his aide. It made him wonder just what Koz was capable of.

As Kho seemed to have finished his apology to Koz, Gillem decided it was time to move out. Their planned journey was purely a northward movement through the desert. It should not take them long, but they would need to be wary. In the desert, water was your lifeline. They could not afford to run out. Due to this, he had had to deviate a little from their route for stops at known oases so they could restock on supplies. There was also the matter of desert monsters, particularly sand surfers. They could strike without the slightest hint until it was too late. They were a rare species, but you still had to prepare for them. Then there were the rumors Gillem had heard back at the inn... but they seemed more like the superstitious tales of drunks than anything else. He looked around at the group, and he could see that they were all eager to get on their way. "Alright," he said with a grin, "Let's move out!"


	4. The Legend of Lagerius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bit of background on elves.
> 
> Elves are creatures of magic. Fair-skinned and beautiful, they are born with a large amount of mana within themselves and are trained to master their magic throughout their lives. Despite the decline of mana in Aervana, elves have retained the ability to use magic, although at a reduced efficiency. An elf can derive mana from the area around them to cast spells and if no mana is available in the area, they can draw from their own personal storage of mana. However, drawing mana from their own body drains an elf's strength, and personal mana takes large spans of rest to replenish. Elves live for an extensive period of time; long enough for many generations of humans to come and go. Because of this, it is taking the elves a long time to remove their hatred for the humans gained during the Evolution War. The elves in Aervana have gone into hiding ever since the treaty was signed to temporarily stop the war with the humans 30 years ago. They live in the Eternal Glade, a sprawling forest overgrown with lush trees and bushes. One of the few places that have retained a trace of mana, magic can be felt in the air of the Eternal Glade. Due to this magic, the Eternal Glade's vast size and the lingering feelings of the elves from the Evolution War, few humans are foolish enough to travel into the Eternal Glade.

Alleria was relieved when the Megaira took over the fire pit. She decide to sit next to the human girl, where she had a good view of what the Dok was doing so she could learn something about fire pit making. No way was she going to get exposed for being clueless at something everyone else probably knew how to do already.

After a few minutes of silence Alleria heard a sound in the direction Nash and Crag had went, but the others didn't seem concerned so she let it pass. She figured Rhea would rush to their aid if something was wrong. Speaking of Rhea, Alleria thought the girl was probably bored just sitting there in silence. She decided to attempt to hold a conversation with her; after all where better to start than with the least threatening member of the group? Perhaps Megaira would join in as well and the three of them could have some female bonding time. The thought almost made her laugh.

"Rhea," Alleria began, "have you known Nash long? How did the two of you become acquainted?" She figured it was as safe a topic as any. Besides, if nothing else, it would help pass the time until the others returned.

Rhea was knocked out of her daze by the sound of Alleria's asking her a question.

Rhea smiled. "Oh, I've known him for a while. Probably close to 2 years now. I used to work with some other priestesses back in Rhodestar, on the outskirts of Atlantica. A small group of us were on our way to a neighboring town to help some of the sick, but we were attacked by bandits on the way there. Luckily for us, Nash and Gillem were nearby. They managed to chase off the bandits, and while talking with them, I became a little envious. They were always traveling around, seeing the world. I was becoming bored with the priestess life, and they told me about a quest they were starting. They were going to save the world. It sounded more than a little absurd at first, but eventually they convinced me to join them, much as they did to you, I'm sure. I've been travelling with them ever since." She smiled meekly at the memories. "It'll be nice to see Gillem again..." she trailed off. Just then, Nash came crashing through the trees.

"Are you all ok?" he said, clutching his left shoulder. It appeared to be bleeding. Badly. Rhea rushed over.

"What happened?" she said hurriedly, moving his hand to look at the wound.

"Bandits." he dropped the firewood he was carrying under his right arm. "They attacked me and the thief in the forest. He ran away with two on his back, and I dealt with the other two. Looked all over for the damn vandal but couldn't find him anywhere."He looked around. "The ranger isn't back yet? Blasted gods, it's been a rough night all around."

Rhea was rapidly whispering prayers under her breath, paying little attention to what Nash was saying. The wound on his shoulder stopped bleeding and slowly began to seal shut as the divine magic worked through his shoulder. Nash muttered his thanks.

"Be careful with that," she said. "Freshly healed wounds break open easily. If that happens, it'll be worse than before." She sighed and sat back down on a tree stump. She was exhausted, both from a day of walking, and the recent magic working through her. "Let's just hope Crag and Roland come back safe..." she whispered worriedly.

* * *

Well Crag was heading back with the bandit in tow to the place he left Nash. He was getting quite annoyed with him for he was causing a lot of noise and slowing Crag down quite a bit. After finally getting to the place he left Nash he found the two bandits he left there quite dead. "Well I guess the bragging about his swordsmanship was not a lie, though it looks like one got him though. He even left them for me to pick over how thoughtful of him." Crag said well examining the bodies finding one of their swords with some blood on it as well as a few coins and very crude knives. While he was looting the bodies of the dead bandits the one that he had tied up had managed to cut the bonds with a knife that was laying on the ground for the beginning of the encounter and started to try and sneak up on Crag well he was busy with the bodies. As he was about to strike Crag a knife found its mark in the bandits throat. The bandit fell on his back dead with Crag standing over him. "If you're going try and kill me, you're going need to be much quieter if your want to do without me hearing you." After Crag pulled out the knife he picked up the fire wood that he gathered earlier and headed back to the camp.

Upon getting close to the camp he heard the voice of Nash saying, "Looked all over for the damn vandal but couldn't find him anywhere." After the conversation between Nash and Rhea ended and they sat down he walked quietly out of the shadows into the camp a smile "Well of course you would not be able to find me Master Nash if you could I would be a horrible thief." he said setting down the wood he brought with him "I would of brought more than wood with me but unfortunately the other thing tried to kill me so I had to end it. Well enough about that has the ranger not made it back yet? Perhaps you would like me to go look for him. After all I am quite sure all of us are hungry and it would be a bad thing for one of us to be out there alone with bandits running around after all." He said with a casual smile on his face.

* * *

Roland grunted loudly as he entered the campfire clearing, dragging the two rather large bucks behind him. He turned over his shoulder to see who else had made it back. It seemed he was last. "There will be no need to come looking for me; I can assure you of that. Although from the racket you two were causing-" he said, looking from Crag to Nash and then to the others, "I would assume you ran into some trouble as well." Roland gave another loud grunt as he pulled the deer over to the fire pit and unstrapped his bow from his back, unstringing it carefully and putting it back in its wrapping. He then pulled his quiver and its strap over his head, setting the arrow holder down next to the bow. "I tried to get back here as quickly as possible after the bandits attacked me, but I did not believe it would be wise to leave our dinner for other scavengers."

The ranger reached into his travel bag and pulled out a long skinning knife, then approached one of the bucks and evenly cut open its stomach, beginning to pull out the entrails of his prey. He did this casually and absentmindedly, standing up to dump the entrails at the edge of the clearing. "From the look of Nash's wound, I can only assume the two of you ran into more bandits then I did. We got lucky that they were not trained killers. I scarcely broke a sweat," he said aloud. Returning to the deer, he began gutting the other one. "Is anyone else going to help with these? We will need to dump the entrails far enough from here that wild animals are not going to sneak into our camp tonight looking for a meal."

"I'll help," replied Megaira walking up to the other deer. She then used a bit of mana to remove a part of the deer's skin and then began gutting the deer with her bare hands, removing any and all organs while breaking and removing any bones that happened to be in the way. "Oh, Roland," began Megaira, "when you are done could you also remove the bones, I would find great use for those." She then looked at the rest of the group. "Will someone take the entrails from here, or shall I take them somewhere else once I am finished?"

* * *

Alleria was in shock. It appeared everyone who didn't stay at the campsite had run into bandits. She could only assume the reason they had gone after the men instead of the women is because they didn't know the three of them were here. That or even bandits feared the Shadowed. Perhaps she had been lucky to have been paired with Megaira after all. Alleria sent a prayer of thanks to Yathdiriel for keeping them safe and returning the others alive.

She saw the ranger had returned with not one, but two bucks. She was surprised he had managed to drag them both back on his own; he must be stronger than she had first estimated. When he and Megaira began to gut the deer, Alleria had a sudden though. Had anyone said a prayer over these deer after they had been slain? To take nature's blessings without offering your thanks could only bring misfortune upon them all.

"Wait," Alleria said, walking to stand before the two deer. She knelt, careful not to get too close to any of the organs, and began to pray. She could not remember the exact words the elders would say, but she did as best as she could remember.

"We thank you, princes of the forest, for offering your lives so that we may be fed. We thank you, Yathdiriel, for blessing us with them. May Drauthier watch over their spirits in the afterlife and may they harbor no ill will against us. Amen," she added at the end, mostly for the humans' benefit. She had heard it was common for them to end their prayers in such a manner. When Alleria began praying over the animals, Roland stopped and stepped respectfully back. He was not much for religion, but he could respect the faith of others.

She got up and began picking up the logs to put them in the fire pit. She worried about what Megaira was going to do with the bones of the deer; but as her presence had likely saved the lives of Rhea and herself, she didn't feel she could protest much. She had prayed for the bucks and that was all she could do for the moment. After the logs had been gathered in the pit, Alleria cast a simple fire spell to set them alight. She sat near the warmth of the fire, suddenly feeling very cold after all that had happened. 

Nash knelt down by one of the deer and took out his hunting knife. He started cutting out pieces of meat for cooking, and others for drying. He gave anything that was to be cooked to Rhea, who was preparing a cooking pot over the fire.

Rhea had decided on making a stew for their meal, due to the fire available and the excess of meat. She hung the cooking pot over the fire. There was a smooth rock in the bottom to help the stew heat faster, along with water she had taken from the stream while the others worked at gutting the bucks. There was also a hint of wine mixed in, which she had taken from an unopened bottle in Nash's bag. She cut the slices of venison into smaller pieces before adding them to the mix, along with some diced carrots and potatoes she had brought along. She only took a little salt from their supply; much of the rest would be used while drying the remaining strips. Finally, she brought out her spices and added a hint of rosemary and stemroot, a plant unique to this area. She wanted to make the first meal of the journey a good one; no doubt there would be times when she had little to work with. With that, she began to stir the mix, lost in her thoughts while the others finished up with the deer.

Roland nodded at Megaira, pulling out what bones he could as he continued stripping flesh and meat from the buck. The ranger laid the bones off to the side, creating a small pile for the Necromancer to take when he was done. He had also taken a small tarpaulin out of his traveling bag and laid it out in between the two deer as a place for the meat that was to be dried to be laid so it would not get dirty on the ground. As Rhea began to cook the stew, Roland's mouth began to water. It had been a long day on the move and all he had had to eat was a biscuit that he had picked up from a bakery in the capital. "If this is how we will be eating every night of this journey, then I am glad Rhea is coming with us," he said with a chuckle.

The stew that Rhea was making smelled delicious. Alleria hoped it was a sign that Rhea was a good cook, after all having tasty meals throughout their journey would be nice. Or would they be rotating the chores for camp and someone else would cook the next night? Alleria supposed cooking wouldn't be too terrible, but the idea of hunting or gathering firewood didn't much appeal to her. How would she be able to carry it all? She was a mage and not physically strong. While her spells were sufficient to protect her in combat, they wouldn't exactly make carrying logs or animals any easier. Maybe they'd pair her with someone stronger to protect her from bandits and such. Speaking of that...

"I'd like to know more about those bandits," Alleria stated to the group. "Do you think they were after anything particular or was it just an unfortunate coincidence? And are they likely to come back with reinforcements?" Truthfully she didn't know whether they had managed to defeat all of them, and even so the bandits had worked in a group. While this was not unheard of, it wasn't exactly commonplace either. Most bandits liked to keep treasure for themselves, not share it amongst a group. It could mean they were dealing with a larger organization.

_"Were they really just bandits, were they assassins sent to stop us from restoring the mana?" Alleria wondered. "And how much more dangerous is this journey going to get?"_

Nash turned to face the elf. While he wasn't fond of elves, he held a grudging respect for them. They were among the best in swordsmanship, possibly surpassed only by the most skilled of the Vanda. After all, they had many lifetimes to hone their skills. On top of that, they could still wield magic. It certainly made them a force to be reckoned with. Nash addressed the question.

"I tend to believe that this attack a random action of a small group. They were few in number and fairly unorganized. On top of that, they had little to no skill with their blades." He looked at his shoulder. "Personally, I'm angry at myself for letting them get to me. I don't believe there are any left, but just in case, we'll be taking shifts standing watch tonight. I hadn't planned on starting this until we were in more dangerous territory, but I don't seem to have a choice now. Roland, Crag, and myself will alternate for tonight. The women can have a night to rest." He looked to Roland and the thief. "You can decide between yourselves who'll be taking first and second shifts. I'll take third so you two can catch a little more sleep, unless there are objections." With that, he turned to Rhea. "How's the stew coming?"

Rhea turned to Nash. "I'd say it's about done," she said with a light smile. She handed out bowls from her travel sack as she filled them with the stew.

"Careful, it might be hot," she warned as the aroma filled the camp. _"Hopefully having something to eat will calm everyone's tension..."_ she thought to herself. Rhea turned to the group. "How about a story while we eat? I'd like to hear the stories you all know, but if nobody else wants to, I'm sure Nash can tell a good one."

Crag looked up from his coin counting that he has been doing well the food was getting made when Rhea handed him his bowl. "Thank you My Lady Rhea the food smells wonderful, though next time feel free to ask to use some of the spices I brought from my shop. As for a story I may know some, but I don't think everyone would like to hear about some of the jobs I have had before. After all those type of stories are better told at the tavern with a drink in hand and well most of them don't really cast me the best light at times." Crag said with grin to Rhea well taking the bowl. "And if you don't mind Roland, I will take the second watch so you can have a longer rest. After all as long as where are in a forest your most likely going be the scouting ahead for us so you're going to need it." Crag said to the ranger well he started eating.

Roland nodded in agreement with Crag's logic. After all, Roland would likely be scouting tomorrow and had spent the better part of the evening dragging two fully grown bucks back from the meadow. He stopped eating for a moment, savoring the flavor of the stew before it slid down his throat. "The presence of bandits here has me worried, especially considering the fact that we are so close to civilization. I would recommend traveling backward and warning the town guard, but we cannot afford to lose any more time," he continued, a tinge of regret in his voice. "Let us hope that we killed all of them, or at least enough to discourage the rest from approaching the town." Roland finished his stew and prepared his bedroll, then took a seat by the fire. "Crag, I shall wake you when the Moon has made a third of her journey across the sky. You are all welcome to fall asleep at your leisure."

Rhea sighed. It appeared that no one was interested in telling a story due to the silence, and Roland had already prepared his bedroll. She guessed that it was to be expected. They were certainly tired from the walking, as well as dealing with bandits on the first day. She had just been trying to lighten the tension.

"Well, since it appears that no one is interested, I guess I'll call it a night," Rhea said to the group, pulling out her own bedroll.

Alleria was dismayed to hear this. Stories of any sort were a large part of the elvish culture and she always enjoyed hearing them. Stories from different people of different races were almost more interesting as there was the chance it'd be one she hadn't heard before.

"Hold up. What happened to me telling a story?" The gruff voice belonged to Nash. He appeared to be scraping out the last bits of the stew from his bowl. "You said if they didn't want to, I could." He was talking through a mouthful of food. "Right?"

Rhea smiled. "Well, I suppose I did. Let's hear it then."

Nash swallowed the last of his stew. "Hmm... Which story to tell...?" he said, thinking.

"Well... I suppose I'll tell an old favorite. The legend of the hero, Lagerius. It's certainly suitable for the crisis we're in right now." He cleared his throat.

"Now, as you all probably know, Lagerius was around during the Demon Age. This was well before any of our modern cities were built, back when demons roamed the land. There were many battles between the demons and their king Craes and the allied forces which consisted of humans, Shantii, Vanda, and elves.

"The Dok didn't participate in this war," he said, looking towards Megaira. "I don't think the other races even knew they existed yet, honestly... Perhaps they didn't. Anyway, back to the story. I'll tell the tale of one of the battles - the most important battle that ended the war - The Battle of the Blackened Plains.

"The previous battles in the war between demons and humans had weakened both sides tremendously. However, the allied forces had finally reached a point where victory was within reach. They had cornered Craes' forces on the Blackend Plains, between the allied armies and the Knotted Mountains. Despite this, the demons were fighting back stronger than ever. It appeared that the alliance might be defeated. That was when Lagerius left the main fray along with his friend and mage, Grist. They tore through the ranks of the demons, using the might of Lagerius's sword and Grist's magic, slowly approaching the plateau where the demon king rested. Eventually, they reached the bottom of the plateau, and climbed the spiral path, chiseled by magic, to the top. The sky was dark, and there was a great storm overhead. This plateau would be the deciding point of the war. A battle between the greatest of the demons, and the best warriors the alliance had to offer.

The demon king's back was turned to the two. Without turning, he laughed a dark laugh before saying: 'So this is it. You think by defeating me here, you can save this world? Ha! Look around you. It is already destroyed by war. Besides...' the demon king turned, 'You won't be leaving here alive!' With that, the battle began. As the battle between demon and man dragged on, the outlook appeared more and more hopeless. Even with the support of Grist, Lagerius's attacks seemed to have no effect on the demon. Grist's magic was the same. Meanwhile, Lagerius was wearing down and receiving injuries as his movements slowed. 'Grist,' Lagerius said, 'use it. It's the only way we can have a chance of winning this war. I'll stall him long enough... and provide the necessary cost. My power should be enough...' Grist started to protest, then solemnly nodded. He knew it was the only way. Lagerius spoke again. 'I have received a prophecy...my last one to deliver. Please here it.' Lagerius began,

When all hope seems lost, he shall arrive,  
He shall come to the tiered city, ragged in appearance and with hair as bright as the full moon,  
But a small boy, his power shall be great,  
Train him, and he shall deliver the world from the greatest evil it has known.

When Lagerius finished, he gave a short nod to Grist before returning to battle.

Grist took out the magic scroll they had received from the elven mages prior to the battle. It was to be used only as a last resort. Grist began to chant, while Lagerius used his remaining energy to keep the demon king at bay. As Grist finished the chant, he shouted, 'Craes, daenic deth wrathi...VANESHTA!' A rope of light reached between the scroll and Lagerius, before extending to Craes. As it connected to the demon, the rope turned startlingly black. The demon king let out a scream of agony, and Grist released the magic. A pillar of light and fire appeared around him, before exploding outward. Grist's vision went black for a long time, and when it finally returned, he found himself to be the only one remaining on the battlefield. The soldiers of both sides were nowhere to be seen. The plains had been charred black by the blast, hence the name "Battle of the Blackened Plains." Grist wept tears of happiness for the war finally having ended, and sorrow at the loss of so many lives. He returned home, and Lagerius's prophecy has been passed down through his descendants ever since."

"At least, that's how the story goes," Nash said to the group. "I don't hold any belief in the truth of it, but hey, you never know. Anyway, I'm pretty tired now, and I have 3rd watch, so I' like to get some rest. 'Night everyone."

Although Alleria had heard the story before, it was always nice to get a fresh perspective on things. It certainly was an appropriate story for the group as it took place back when all the races banded together to fight a common evil, just as they were now banding together to solve a common problem. _Perhaps traveling with them all is not so bad,_ Alleria thought to herself.

Rhea smiled as she walked over to her bedroll. That story was one of her favorites. A sad twist at the end, but a victory overall. It was a bittersweet story, and a good one, even though Nash wasn't the best of storytellers. She thought of how she would like to be as strong as the heroes as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

After listening to Nash's story Megaira felt rather sleepy, and seeing as how no one else was telling stories they all agree to sleep and take night shifts. As Megiara watched everyone but Roland who had the first shift fall asleep she told Roland, "I'll be out for a bit but I'll return very soon," as she walked a distance where she can't see the camp. She then cast an illusion of a hideous beast that was not from these woods and began to talk to herself, "As safe as the group may be, I still don't like sleeping without a little protection, and as long as no one from there comes here they shouldn't see a thing. Should I explain to Roland at least and past it down to the others... No, I think they wouldn't come this far, or at least I hope so." She returned to camp where she fell right to sleep after saying good night to Roland.

Roland grinned slightly as Nash finished his story. He'd heard many different variations of it in his travels, but Nash had managed to put a certain warrior's charm into it. While he was musing, Megaira passed by him on her way out of camp. Roland nodded in acknowledgement, taking a knife off of his leg and beginning to whittle at a small log he'd taken from the wood pile. The ranger figured that Megaira was probably going out to the woods in order to perform a necromantic ritual that she didn't feel comfortable sharing with the others just yet. A sudden quieting of the owls and other night creatures confirmed that something had changed. When the necromancer walked past him again, he bid her good night and continued his whittling.

* * *

Roland sighed, putting down the small figurine that he had managed to carve over the past three hours. It was a small effigy of Cre, the human god of balance. Even as a child, Roland had never been religious. He had always relied on his intuition and survival skills to get him past the obstacles he faced in his life. His opinion was still the same; he would rely on himself in the coming journey, not on some apathetic deity who viewed Roland in the same way that Roland might view an ant. The figurine was not for him, though. He finally snapped out of his reverie and took out his smaller dagger, rotating it slowly as he pressed into the small piece of wood he'd left on top of the figure's head. When the blade poked through, Roland took a leather strip from his bag and looped it through, tying a knot. He held the amulet up to the light from the moon, grinning lightly in pride. He stuffed it into a pocket on his leather armor, then stood up and crossed the campsite. He poked Crag in the midsection with the tip of his boot. "It's your turn to keep watch, Crag. Uneventful night so far."

Crag stretched as he stood up after Roland had awakened him from his light sleep. After all a good thief never fully falls asleep in an unfamiliar place. For if one did then most likely one would end up with a knife in their back, which Crag has always thought to be very unprofitable. Nodding to Roland and wishing a good rest, Crag looked around for a place to sit well on watch. He decided on a stump a little out of the way of the fire, so he would be able to seen into the dark without having to wait until his eyes adjusted every time he needed to.

As the moon continued its journey across the night sky and the unnatural silence that has persisted since Megaira had gone into the forest. Crag thought on the events of why he joined this journey. Well many would think that it he decided to join it because the potential profit that could be gained for the journey, and from the prestige he could gain if they were successful which in part was the one of the reasons why but not the main one to Crag. For Crag as much as he enjoyed making a profit and having fun he knew in is heart that no matter how much he made how well he protected it, it would not last. For him the reason why he decided to join this endeavor was so he could make something that lasted. Just like the heroes in the story Nash told he wanted his name to be has known like theirs even after his death. "And that is one thing no matter how good at thieving I am I cannot steal," he said as moon finished its second third of the night.

* * *

Crag stood up from his place wand walked over to Nash's bedroll and nudged him with his foot well saying to him, "Master Nash it's your turn for the watch. It seems like this night will be gratefully uneventful."

Nash rubbed his eyes again to stay awake. The last hours of the night had been uneventful so far, but that didn't mean he could take a break. He decided to walk a short ways around the campsite to keep himself awake - close enough that he could still see if anyone or anything tried to enter, but far enough to get some fresh air, untouched by the fading smoke of the campfire. As he was making his round, something a short ways off drew his attention. As he tried to get a closer look, a shiver went down his spine. It was some sort of beast, a demon perhaps. He slowly reached to draw his sword from his back, trying not to make any sudden movements that might draw its attention. Its glowing red eyes remained trained on him the whole time. Just as he was about to alert the group, he noticed something off about the beast. No matter where he moved, it always seemed to be directly facing him. Also, if he looked closely, he could see through the beast. It didn't appear to make any movements at all, not even the steady motion of breathing. He decided to get a little closer. Sure enough, as he approached, the beast made no movements to attack. As he was right next to it, Nash lowered his sword, just in case. Still, the beast made no movements, but still had the illusion of facing him as he circled it, the same angry snarl on its face. Nash decided to give it a final test. He swung his sword at it, and sure enough it passed through. The beast was naught but an illusion, probably hastily set up by the necromancer before she went to sleep. They would have to have a talk about that. After Nash had returned to the camp, he spent the rest of his uneventful watch planning their journey; taking note of remaining food and water, determining rations, keeping the fire going, and confirming their route. In the early hours of morning he began to cook some bacon he had brought along as a breakfast of sorts for the rest of the group when they woke. He smiled as the smell filled the air. Nash assumed that the group would enjoy waking up to that scent.


	5. Scraeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time we'll go over humans and a bit about the Evolution War.
> 
> Humans are the most numerous humanoid species on Aervana. The humans fought with the elves in the Evolution War, which is technically finished, though the only thing keeping the war from resuming is an uneasy peace treaty due to the increasingly large drops in Aervana's mana. The humans are desperately seeking the cause of these drops. Without large supplies of the world's mana, they have lost all access to magic.

The sun was bearing down on Gillem, reflecting off his armor and forcing him to squint. They had been traveling for a few hours, with naught more than a few idle comments along the way. He supposed that was to be expected of a group that had only met the day before, save for Olrien and Eleriese. It would take a while for everyone to become comfortable with one another. Still, they were making good distance. Gillem opened his mouth to try to start a conversation when he saw an outline on the horizon. It was hard to notice at first, but appeared to be a black line moving on the horizon. Gillem raised a hand, signaling for everyone to stop. He looked over and saw that some of the others had noticed as well. Kho was gripping the hilt of his sword, not in the offhand way that Gillem had noticed him doing earlier, but rather in preparation to be drawn. As the line approached, Gillem could begin to make out the forms of what he was seeing. Scraeth. And it was a lot of them.

The Scraeth's scorpion-esque bodies gleamed in the harsh sun. They were still a ways off, but for them to be visible from this far was a sure sign that the group was in for trouble. There was nowhere to hide in the middle of a desert, and there was no way they could outrun Scraeth, especially on sand. They had 8 legs, each with multiple points at the end to better grip the sand. They had two large pincers in the front, a barbed and venomous stinger in back, and hard armored bodies that were quite difficult to pierce. As he got a closer look, Gillem's blood chilled. Rounding up the back of the group were two excessively large Scraeth, with not one, but two barbed stingers ending in a spear-like point. That alone meant they were Grand Scraeth. Grand Scraeth were much more vicious, with larger pincers and tougher armor. There seemed to be around twenty scraeth in total. Gillem turned to the group. "As I'm sure you can tell we seem to have quite the battle ahead of us. These are scraeth. They move quickly, but turn slowly. Thus, it is best to use hit and run tactics on them." He took a breath. "I have never encountered a group even a fourth of this size together, and to be honest, I'm not sure that we can get out of this unscathed. However, as leader and warrior, you can trust that my shield will be in the way before any of you lay down your life." Gillem turned to his thoughts again. This was definitely unusual. Scraeth did not travel in large groups; they usually only moved in pairs, sometimes groups of 3-4. The scraeth were approaching. Gillem drew his sword and unhooked his shield from his belt.

"Draw your weapons and prepare for battle."

"Hit and Run? Perfect that is the wind's favorite method of fighting" and without hesitation Olrien drew his blade, the sapphire gems on the blade glistened brightly in the desert sun. He held Winter's Gale in front of him at the ready. "Gillem I can whip up a tornado to try and separate the group before they approach, but I need somebody to guard me. Be aware it is risky however, it may kick up a lot of sand and reduce the visibility a bit."

Gillem nodded. "A separation would be much appreciated. If we take them on in smaller numbers, they'll be much easier to deal with. You can count on my shield to cover you." He turned to the others. "While I cover Olrien, see if you can pick them off a few at a time. The sand kicked up will blind them just as much as us." He positioned himself next to the elf, ready to move at a moment's notice.

Olrien shifted Winter's Gale into an upright position, as he place his index and middle finger on the back of his blade. Before he channeled the spell he remarked "Keep in mind wind magic is rarely offensive in nature, this will most likely not damage them heavily". He then began to concentrate heavily, the winds could be felt whipping around and moving towards the Katana quickly. Most around the blade would probably feel a slight feeling of being sucked towards it, but it wouldn't actually physically move them.

His eyes closed, Olrien began to build up the power in his blade. A small cyclone started to form around the base of the blade near the hand-guard.

Braius saw the scraeth coming, and began mentally preparing himself, burning images of his allies into his mind. He had fought the creatures before, though not a pack this size, and not of this larger variety. His only response to the words of the other travelers was heavy but measured breathing, as he brought himself into the characteristic battle trance of his people. He slowly eliminated every emotion that would slow him down. Fear. Excitement. Concern. All that remained was that barely suppressed inferno known as anger. The large berserker reached down and tightly gripped his blades before drawing them from their crude sheaths with a refined motion. The heavy, thick blades were specifically designed to bite deeply into the foe, punching through tough armor. His conscious mind beginning to shut down, he started to slowly walk toward the approaching foes.

Kho closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the approaching threat. He drew slow, even breaths, just as his master had taught him, calming his body and mind. He only faintly heard Gillem's request in the back of his mind. Then all at once, he prepared to strike. His eyes snapped open, and he was gone, sprinting towards the Scraeth with his head dipped low and his scarf trailing behind. He whipped past the first of the Scraeth, only to quickly turn and thrust his longsword between the plating on the joint of its pincer. He flicked his wrist, and his sword followed, removing one of the Scraeth's weapons. Kho had already disappeared by the time it turned to retaliate. In his short break, he turned to see pair of Scraeth, accompanied by one of the Grand Scraeth, splitting off towards Braius. He would have gone to help, but he was already under attack by others in the horde. He raised his sword, preparing to move into combat once more.

Gillem watched as a small cyclone appeared around Olrien's blade. This was the first time he was seeing magic other than healing. As the cyclone grew, he felt as though he was being dragged toward the sword, but his body wasn't moving. It was quite disorienting. However, he was snapped out of this trance by the sound of approaching Scraeth. He raised his sword, preparing to meet there attacker. Luckily, there only appeared to be one coming for them. It wasn't much comfort though, as he knew that meant there were more by the others. He ran towards the Scraeth, raising his shield as it swung a pincer at him. He felt the impact and prepared to swing around it for a counterattack, only to find that his left arm was stuck in place. The Scraeth had its pincer clamped around his shield. He ducked as it stabbed at him with its stinger and swung his sword at its arm, severing the pincer that was holding him in place. He then rolled under its upraised body as it took another shot with its stinger and stabbed into its soft underbody with his sword. The Scraeth gave a shrill shriek as its greenish blood flowed out. Gillem stabbed again, before rolling to the side as the creature collapsed. He returned to Olrien after making sure there were no more immediate threats. He wanted to help the others, but knew that this spell needed to go off to even the odds. He scanned the battlefield, hoping no one was hurt already. He saw Braius approaching a small group, no doubt embracing the rage of a berserker. While he may be able to ignore pain in that state, he hoped that he would still be careful. Continuing to scan, he saw Kho weaving between the Scraeth, his scarf moving gracefully behind him as he struck at the enemy. He seemed to make no unnecessary movements, striking and retreating, moving from one enemy to the next. Those two seemed to be the only ones who had directly engaged the enemy so far. He turned back to Olrien. "Is it almost done?" he asked the elf, catching his breath.

As soon as Gillem asked, Olrien's eyes opened. He yelled something in Elvish at the top of his lungs that would have roughly translated to Wind Dragon's Fury. The cyclone on the sword suddenly grew twice in size.

Olrien swung his blade directly down, the cyclone loosing itself and becoming even bigger as it raged towards the mass of Scraeth. Olrien ran after it, his sword by his side he meant to clash with the enemies as it impacted. He used the very winds to increase his own speed, running faster than normally possible. The cyclone landed and a huge amount of sand was kicked into the air. It sent the Scraeth flying in all directions.

A haze of sand hung in the air. Olrien stood over the bodies of 2 dead Scraeth he had killed on impact. Lucky for him, the winds still blew, he would be able to "see" through the haze. He felt their forms by blowing the winds, his sword was at the ready knowing he would be attacked at any moment.

Braius picked up speed, transforming his gait from a slow walk into a full-out charge. He ran straight at the largest of the beasts, and then leapt through the air, instinct guiding his path. The berserker aimed himself at the scraeth's tail, weapons outstretched, twisting through the air to avoid the creature's counter-strike. As he landed, he focused his momentum into the tip of his katar as he plunged it into the seam where stingers met tail, followed closely by the second. This brutal attack messily removed the venomous barbs, causing the scraeth to roar in pain and begin to flail, sending the large man flying off. He landed adroitly and rushed back into the fray, punching at the underside of the scraeth's neck. The strike glanced off of a tough armor plate, but Braius was already swinging onto the thing's back. He mercilessly began pounding it, blades punching deep wounds into the beast's exoskeleton. It whirled around and tried to bite its attacker and received a sharpened piece of metal in its mouth. Before it fell, the berserker leapt toward another, smaller scraeth, beginning to give it a similar treatment.

_Clang!_ Metal rang out in the cloud of sand as Olrien blocked a blow from his unseen attacker. He traced the winds and delivered a deft strike to the beast's pincer, right where the 2 pieces connect, severing it claw in two. Two more Scraeths threw blind blows in his direction, he narrowly avoided the first, but the second landed on his chest causing minor bleeding. Olrien Jumped off his current target, and took a slash at the other two. He diced the legs of the one on the left, leaving it unable to move, though it still thrashed and clawed at the air with its nasty pincers. Against the right one he accelerated his blade using the wind and cut into its forehead, felling it in one strike. The immobile one however scored a lucky blow, hitting Olrien as he came back down. It hit him in the side with the flat of it claw, and the force knocked the wind out of Olrien. He lay on the ground while the fist Scraeth scuttled up to him. It raised its claw high above its head. It was going for a killing blow.

Kozuto was able to manifest multiple bodies at once: he was a sand surfer, a falcon, a dog, and himself all at once, split among four beings. Using his last Ancestor's Request, he brought up a large wall of stone in a dome shape. He quickly spun into a meditation pose to better control his ties to the creatures he manifested.

As the sand surfer he dove from below the sand onto the back of one scraeth, tightly biting its pincher while the tale of the surfer injected poison into its tail, similar to a leech. From there, it released its grip, diving into the sand again.

As the sphinx falcon he dove sharply from the sky, bearing its sharp talons into the sheltered eye of the beast. As the three entities, he did not wish to kill the beasts: his companions would do that. He would simply incapacitate them. While the surfer attacked, the falcon went back into the sky to attempt another strike. Likewise, when the surfer dove, the falcon attacked the scraeth.

His bond with the creatures was strengthening. He had achieved complete focus in his nomad body, which allowed him to better focus on controlling the animals.

As the hunting dog, he circled the battlefield, allowing the nomad a set of eyes with which to watch after himself. Using the abilities and strengths of the four animals, each would benefit. The surfer would be able to pinpoint weak points, the eagle would be able to work on ripping the tail off, and the dog continually gave the other two creatures a perspective from afar. The force connecting all three was Kozuto himself. As long as he retained this state, he could control the creatures.

However, that would not last long. A scraeth started to smash its way into his defenses. The stone began to crack.

Braius, through the fog of a berserker's rage, noticed that the elf -Olrien- was in trouble. A scraeth was bearing down on him. The scraeth that was currently charging at him became another weapon, as he turned the creature's momentum against it in a wide throw, sinking his blades in and levering it toward the one currently attacking Olrien. The beast's soon-to-be-corpse bowled its companion over, leaving it just enough time to react with shock as Braius leapt toward it with a mighty roar and sunk his twin katar into the creature's brain. He whirled around to face the fallen elf, roared again, and then dashed off in search of another victim.

Kho looked around. The cyclone had certainly helped, but there were still a large number of scraeth left. The animals themselves seemed to be assisting the group, no doubt thanks to Koz. As he scanned the area, Kho noticed one scraeth off on its own, ramming its hardened body into a stone wall. It only took a moment of thinking to realize that that was where Koz had been standing. Kho dashed in his direction, hoping to be in time. The wall had already cracked, and Koz had specifically said he wasn't good at close-range combat. As he approached, Kho readied himself to strike. He drew his sword arm back and lowered his head, running even faster. He would use this momentum to make a quick strike. He thrust his arm forward, pushing off with the muscles in both legs, sending himself in a forward thrust at the creature. In an instant, he sliced from under its tail to the middle of its body, splitting the back end of the scraeth in two. As it collapsed, he flicked his wrist, sending the green blood flying off his sword.

Gillem rushed into the fray. There were many scraeth left as well as a Grand Scraeth. Braius had made short work of one, treating it just like any other scraeth. However, not everyone had his massive strength. Gillem raised his shield as he met the first scraeth, severing its pincers before piercing its soft underbelly. More surrounded him. He turned constantly, blocking blows from all sides, returning with a quick slash or stab when he could. However, there were too many. He felt a pincer smash into his side, right where his burn from the demon was still healing. As he doubled over in pain, another scraeth rammed him with its side from behind, sending him sprawling to the ground. Gillem flipped himself over, only to be met by the Grand Scraeth towering over him. He went to raise his shield only to find that it had been knocked out of his hand in the fall. As its large pincer fell towards him with alarming strength behind it, Gillem raised his sword in a block, catching it in the vice grip of the pincer. Rather than stopping the blow like Gillem had planned, the pincer pushed forward, pushing Gillems right arm to his chest and impaling his sword into the ground on his left, the hilt still in his grasp. He was forced to release his grip in order to roll to the right, narrowly avoiding one of its barbed tails striking down at him. The other stinger followed right after, and Gillem rolled back to the left as it pierced the golden sands. Trapped between the two tails, still stuck in the sand, Gillem was at a great disadvantage. The Grand Scraeth still had both pincers to attack with. However, rather than attacking Gillem, the Grand Scraeth slowing withdrew its stingers from the sand, walking overhead of him as if in a trance. Gillem took this opportunity to roll away and retrieve his shield. His sword however, was still in the Scraeth's pincer.

The gentle breeze and the soft sand; these were pushed to the back of Eleriese's mind as she wove her steps into a dance. She focused on drawing the large scraeth away from Gillem, entrancing the creature with the magic of her dance. The creature had seen her and was lulled into weariness, making slow progress towards the elf. She vaguely noticed Gillem roll away and retrieve his shield before looking in her direction and nodding his thanks. He ran at the scraeth, retrieving his sword as it fell out of the slowly relaxing grasp of its pincer. Eleriese felt a connection with the Grand Scraeth by this point; she hated to think it would be killed, but she knew it was necessary. She let the dance fall apart as Gillem's sword pierced the creature, its terribly sad shriek only worsening the pain she had already gathered from the creature.

Olrien was grateful for whoever killed the beast about to strike. He didn't manage to catch who it was before they moved on however. He sprung to his feet, taking note of the field around him, the sand starts to die down a little, however Olrien still relied upon the winds to find his way around. He readied his stance in case he was ambushed again. He didn't want to push himself as he was pretty hurt.

The banging had stopped. Kozuto was once again safe. _The gratitude can wait,_ he thought. He spun into a crossed-leg stance, bowing his head along his straightened spine. He took a deep breath, calming himself at once. In battle and stress, he was perfectly capable of remaining calm, but not in basic social interactions. _Funny,_ he thought. His second breath returned his vision to him, but only of the Sphinx Falcon and hunting dog. The surfer must have been killed. His vision grew dark at the edges, as he gritted his teeth, even in meditation. He vowed to rip apart the pinchers with which the scraeth attacked the sand surfer. He brought the dog into the fray, as the falcon felled one of the foes. The battle had been going on for a short while, but it seemed to be coming to some sort of a close, for better or for worse.

Gillem was disarmed. Kozuto asked only him before the battle to defend him, so it must have been Gillem to save him. The favor would not go without notice. The sphinx falcon gave a furious cry, as Kozuto attempted to control his emotions and, consequently, the animals. He flew towards the largest, most armored Grand Scraeth as the falcon, with the intent of removing the pincher. At the same time, he, as the hunting dog, leapt towards the same pincher. Both animals' attacks connected and struck the beast at the same time, its grip faltering on the sword.

Eleriese looked around the battlefield. The movements of the others were slowing down due to fatigue and injury. This was going to get them killed. A rejuvenation dance, then. Moving her feet swiftly, she began an electrifying, energetic dance, comprised of sharp movements and rapid transitions.

Kho's sword gleamed in the sunlight. There were three scraeth around him. He was breathing heavily now, a rare thing for him. _"I'm out of practice,"_ he thought to himself. _"Still, I'm nowhere near finished."_ He circled around, ready to move at the slightest movement from one of the scraeth. He was in the eye of the storm right now, each side carefully watching the other. Then, all at once, the calm was broken. Two of the scraeth darted inward, snapping their pincers towards Kho. He jumped through the air, scarf trailing behind him as he landed on the back of one of the third scraeth. It lashed out with its tail, but Kho was ready. He weaved to the side and slashed at the tail as it swung past. His sword's razor sharp blade cut it clean off. Greenish blood spurted from the wound, covering Kho with its droplets. He stabbed downward between the scraeth's plates, and then jumped off as it collapsed. He ran at one of the other two, sliding underneath it to avoid its tail. He stabbed upward, piercing its belly, and then dragged his blade towards the creature's backside, cleaving it open from underneath. He rolled out to face the last of the three. It let out a hissing noise, its mandibles opening and closing as it glared at him. All at once, his exhaustion seemed to fade away. Kho approached it slowly, his mind connecting with his surroundings. He heard every noise, saw every twitch the scraeth made. This was what he had trained for. This was what he had accomplished in his training. He walked at a slow pace, ready to end this battle. The scraeth thrust its stinger at him, like a spear flying through the air. But Kho had seen it coming. He took a single step to the left, narrowly avoiding the stinger as it buried itself in the sand. Without breaking pace, he severed the creature's tail. The scraeth cried out, but swung a pincer at Kho like a hammer. Using its own momentum, Kho positioned his blade so the scraeth cut off its own appendage. Before it could react, he turned, quickly lashing out with his sword, severing its other claw. Without its weapons, the scraeth was defenseless. It let out what sounded like a whimper. Blood was dripping from its severed appendages. With a single thrust, Kho ended its pain once and for all.

Gillem was exhausted. They had killed so many, but so many remained. There still seemed to be around ten scraeth left. Kho was surrounded by three of them, but despite how much Gillem wanted to help, he had his own to deal with. He raised his sword, his tired muscles still responding. He had yet to retrieve his shield; it lay just beyond the scraeth in front of him. He narrowly dodged a blow from its pincer, retaliating with a strike from his sword. However, his movement was too slow, and the scraeth pulled away its arm, striking Gillem with the other. It was a glancing blow off of his armor, but he could still feel the creature's strength behind it. He took another swing at the scraeth, leaving a shallow cut in its side. He could feel energy slowly returning to his body, and his movements became more fluid, with power once again backing his strikes. It had to be one of the magic users. He'd have to thank them later. Using his newly found energy, Gillem let loose a flurry of blows at the scraeth, severing a pincer before managing to strike beneath its plating. He twisted his sword, slicing the plate off of its head. He followed up with a lunge into the now defenseless area, and the beast collapsed.

Olrien felt his strength come back; was it a second wind? He figured it was a light amount of magic, though whether it was Koz or Eleri he didn't know, let alone was there the time for that. Another Scraeth slowly approached him. He struck with his blade at the hinge of the claw, then boosted himself with the wind over to the other claws, deftly removing both. The Scraeth now defenseless turned to run, Olrien let it run off and moved on. He ran over to Gillem. "I think their numbers are low enough they may begin to flee after the decimation of their force." Olrien said as Scraeth towards the back started to flee. Primal Instincts must have kicked in after watching three of their leaders fall. A few Stragglers were still looking for a fight. Olrien stood next to GIllem his sword at his side. The Greenish Blood of the Scraeth running down the blade made it look like the man's face carved into the hilt was crying tears made of emeralds in the desert sun.

Gillem turned to see Olrien approaching. Sure enough, looking behind the elf, Gillem could see that the few remaining scraeth were indeed heading the other way. He retrieved his shield from where it lay in the sand. The strap that held it to his arm had broken, but it would be a simple fix. "Yes, you seem to be right," Gillem commented, motioning at the fleeing scraeth. As he looked in the distance he saw Kho standing over the bodies of three scraeth. _"He defeated all three.."_ Gillem thought. It was an impressive feat, especially for one without any magical talent. _"Now I see why the Vanda swordsmasters were so feared."_ He took out his sword, wiping the blood off of it as he spoke to Olrien. "Your fighting style is quite impressive. I was able to catch glimpses of you fighting in the small periods of time I had between conflicts. I wanted to help, but unfortunately they kept me busy," he said, motioning to the nearby body of a scraeth. He continued, "You use your wind magic to aid your physical skills, combining sword art and magic in a way I would never have imagined. It's quite impressive." He stood up, sheathing his sword. "We should probably see how the others are doing and assess injuries. Nobody seems to be terribly hurt, but it's a good idea to make sure." He held a hand to his side as he walked towards the others. _"I should really have Rhea take a look at this when we meet up with Nash in Sakiiri. The burn from that demon isn't healing like it should."_ Gillem could feel the wound throbbing from the impact of where the scraeth had hit him. An idea came into his head. _"Koz said he knew some healing. I doubt he's ever encountered a wound from a demon, but maybe he can do something."_ He he wanted to have hope, but he wasn't very confident that there was much any healer around here could do.

Kozuto had finally seen battle. He always was curious how he would act in the midst of it. When the sphinx falcon was attacking, he noticed out of the corner of his multiple eyes that the dancer seemed to be dancing away. Kozuto himself felt mildly relieved, but his animals felt an incredible surge of newfound strength. "I guess Eleriese's dances are meant for species that are typically Vanda size. Or man, or elf." he thought. The fight seemed over. In the span of a very short time, everyone on the field recollected their efforts and fought away the threat. That he could see from the falcon, and was able to confirm with the nose of the dog. Kozuto opened his eyes, his vision to the creatures fading away, but their presence still remained. They seemed to recognize the shaman's skill with the animals of nature. Sunlight was peering through the cracks of the rock. The body of the scraeth that attacked his shelter was still there, so he had to kick his way out. But first, he placed his hand upon the creature's rigid upper torso, feeling its cold blood heating from the sun. "I wish you did not attack, sister. Both of us were troubled by this skirmish." He bowed his head in respect, then turned away. After doing so, he ran over to the slowly-forming group. "I am in awe!" he said, grinning too much, far too polar from the attitude that he just experienced. "Never before have I seen such incredible skill!" The falcon soared from above, slowing its descent, and landed on Kozuto's armored shoulder. He wore a thin metallic piece of armor over his shoulder so that birds did not pierce the flesh. The hunting dog was busy searching for any sort of edibles there could be nearby. "Now, how is everyone? I've got strong healing remedy for anyone who needs it. And dinner is slowly finding itself," he said rather heartily, gesturing to the dog.

Braius dimly noticed through his rage that the scraeth he was eviscerating was dead, and all of the others were either fleeing or in a similar state. He stood up from the filthy work, calming down as he realized the battle was over. He looked about and located his companions gathering a short distance away. "That was fun," he said cheerily as he strolled up, still coated in gore and bits of scraeth shell. "You all looked quite spectacular out there," he said, with a gracious nod to Eleriese. Abruptly, an expression of pain came over his face. "Does anyone else. . . feel a bit woozy?" The large man, after asking this, tilted over and thumped to the ground.

Olrien cleaned the blood from Winter's Gale, as he put it back into its sheathe. "Thank you Gillem." He said in response. However he didn't want to be complimented on his sword and battle techniques, Olrien always saw them as undesirable skills that he wished only to use to protect people. He didn't let Gillem know however because he didn't want to offend the man.

Thump! A loud sound came from behind Olrien, the big brute of a man Brauis had just fallen over. "Somebody should check on him, though knowing Berserkers he probably just tired himself out." Olrien said as he took a swig from his flask.

Gillem looked at Koz and gave a nod towards Braius. "You said you know some healing, right? You'd better look at him, just to be safe." He paused briefly. "Afterwards... I have something I'd like you to look at." He turned aside and walked a few steps, looking out at the bodies of the fallen scraeth spread amongst the desert sand. He could see Kho making an even pace towards the group. As Kho came close enough, Gillem approached him. "You fight exceptionally well with a blade. Your movements are so precise and graceful." Kho looked away, his fingers fidgeting with the hilt of his blade, before nodding his gratitude. Gillem could hear mumbled thanks as the Vanda walked past. He sighed. _"He's not opening up to anyone very quickly, is he?"_ He returned to the group to see if Koz had found anything out about Braius other than sheer exhaustion. He expected it must be tiring after going into a rage like that. He gave a slight bow to Eleriese as he passed. "Thank you for your help out there. I fear I wouldn't have made it out alive, if not for you. I am in your debt."

Eleriese smiled as Gillem thanked her. "No worries; I'm a noncombatant. Have to help somehow." She circled around and observed the carnage surrounding the band. "Anyway, I doubt we'll be getting any sleep. Do you guys want to keep moving, or should we break out the ale?"

Braius grunted and shook awake, sitting up intently. "Did someone say ale?" He winced after a moment. "Ow, that stings." The large man examined his body quickly. "Oh, hello, I didn't notice you before," he said, gesturing to a wound on his arm. "Those stingers hurt something fierce."

As Kozuto jogged over, someone must have opened up a flask of ale. Braius sat up, right as he arrived. "Those stingers hurt something fierce," the Shantii said. Kozuto snickered. "Actually, the scraeth's stingers have a sort of fluid in them that brings up a numbing sensation. The victims typically have difficulty controlling their limbs and body parts after they have injected the toxin," Kozuto rambled on. "Your body must have rejected the fluid for you to sit up that quickly. That or you really seem to like firewater. Now, hold up for just a minute while I remove this." Vanda Nomads are consistently on the move. Therefore, they have to adapt to their environment and understand the life around them. Kozuto removed a pouch he carried filled with simple medical equipment. "Sorry for this..." Kozuto grabbed a pair of metallic tweezers, reached close to the wound, then quickly grabbed the largest portion of the remaining pincher and ripped it out. The pincher was removed, followed by a short string of fibers. He hoped the berserker wouldn't thank him by smashing his face in. He left the healing potion in the sand beside Braius. "Don't drink the whole thing. Just a large sip will do." Kozuto grinned nervously. "Please don't kill me."

"Ooof," Braius exhaled as Kozuto pulled what remained of the stinger out of his arm. He looked at the shaman in confusion at his reaction to him as he took a drink of the healing potion. After he finished, he wiped his mouth. "Why would I hurt you? You've helped me, and besides, one doesn't go about punching healers. It tends to be detrimental to one's health." He stood up and brushed himself off. "Now, where's that ale?"

Olrien threw him a bottle from his bags. He went around handing to others to everyone in the group. "Everyone drink up, I say this calls for a celebration. Though after this I will definitely need to brew some more, I didn't have a lot made." Olrien said with a big grin on his face. He finished passing out the bottles he grabbed his own flask on his hip. "Time for the toast my friends!" He raised his flask over his head "To friends, to family, to life, may we triumph once more on the field of battle so we may continue our valiant quest!"

Kozuto was handed a bottle of the ale. Never before had he drank firewater. It would be something new to him. However, it was a gift from his newfound ally. And so, with his trust just barely established, and rather stupidly for a Vanda, Kozuto listened to Olrien's quick toast. He was an amicable person. In battle, his prowess was incredible and speed even more so. _First time for everything,_ he thought. He took a large chug, instantly feeling tingling in his fingertips.

Kho raised a hand as a bottle was handed to him. "No thanks..." he muttered, looking out at the setting sun. Its fading light reflected off the remaining shells of the scraeth. His grip flexed over then handle of his blade, the old habit taking place again. He could hear the rest of the group laughing behind him, happy with their survival. Meanwhile, his thoughts drifted to his past. Running at his opponent, swinging his sword wildly in fear. His master's voice- _"...Focus! You need to move more fluidly!"_ Stumbling as he attempted a movement... _"...let your mind and body become one! It should feel natural..."_ A feeling of elation at completing a parry. His master's smile. _"...good. You're progressing well, Kho."_ His master's hand placed on his shoulder.

Gillem placed a hand on Kho's shoulder. The Vanda turned to meet his eye, looking surprised for a split second before his face resumed its usual composure. Gillem smiled.

"Sorry if I startled you. Why don't you join us? Everyone's in good spirits."

Kho glanced at the group before meeting Gillem's gaze again. "I... don't really get along well with others..."

Gillem nodded, his faint smile still in place. "You have to start sometime, don't you? Come on, we're all companions here." He took the ranger's arm and began leading him towards the group.

"H-hey...! I don't really..." Kho started, fading away as they reached the group.

Gillem raised his bottle. "For Aervana!" he cheered.


	6. Trouble on the Trail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time I'll detail some of the Gods of Aervana. As each race worships different ones, I'll break them down by the races that worship them.
> 
> Humans
> 
> Aer - The most commonly worshiped god. Believed to be the creator of Aervana and its watcher.
> 
> Cre - The god of balance. Keeps the flow of good and evil equal to keep the world safe from chaos.
> 
> Nox - God of the Underworld. The keepers of souls after death. Only those faithful to Aer escape his punishment.
> 
> Elves
> 
> Yathdiriel - The god of nature and harmony.
> 
> Umbyen - The goddess of the seas and time.
> 
> Cintiel - The goddess of the skies.
> 
> Drauthier - The god of death and chaos.
> 
> Vanda
> 
> Veda - The first of the great Vanda swordsman revered as a battle god. The Vanda believe he will give them strength through prayer.
> 
> Other than that, they look to their ancestors for strength.
> 
> Shantii
> 
> Bruuta - God of war and battle.
> 
> Shandra - Goddess of the home. Female Shantii pray to her to keep their husbands safe in battle.
> 
> Dok
> 
> None

Rhea was the first to wake, taking in the smell of bacon before returning to the stream to tidy up. While it was not deep enough for bathing, she could still wash her hair and scrub at some dirt on her arms. When she returned to camp, she began to pack up her things, complimenting Nash on the cooking. She took a place around the campfire as the bacon was finishing cooking and waited for the rest of the group to wake.

After a quiet night's rest Megiara awoke to the smell of food she's unfamiliar with. As she awoke she spoke to herself while rubbing her eyes to wake up, "Huh, what's that smell?" She looked at Nash and Rhea around the fire while cooking food. She then looked around and saw that everyone's still asleep. Before she could join Nash and Rhea for breakfast, Megiara is reminded of the illusion she used for the night. She got up and told the two, "I'll be back I must take care of a few things." She walked out to the woods and walked towards her illusion, speaking to it. "You've done a great job scaring anyone if anyone appeared, but since we're moving you don't have to stay anymore," were the words she spoke to the illusion before it vanished.

Walking back she saw and remembered of the bones from the deer lying near a tree just behind the camp. "I don't think we'll stay long so I can't make something out of all these right now. I will just take the better bones then." Megiara then reached into the pile of bones to fetch a few bones when a spider the size of her hand crawled up her arm with its hairy legs. "Oh hello there," she spoke to the spider, "is something the matter?" The spider then crawled backed as Megiara removed a few bones before seeing a large egg sac before her eyes. It seemed to her that the bones were the new home for the spider. Now taking a second look at the spider she noticed it's unusually coloring of purple and gray, and remembering from a book from her childhood the spider was a rare species whose poison was enough for a normal man to be taken down by just one injection of its venom. But on the contrary the poison could be used as one of the best medicine her kind has discovered. The species was also smarter than an average spider, which is probably why the spider understood Megiara, or at least enough to give her a warning. "Perhaps I should discuss this with the others at breakfast and see what we should do about this," she said to herself as she walked back to camp near the smell of food.

Nash turned as he saw Megaira approach from the forest. He hadn't even noticed her wake up. Still, he decided that now was as good a time as any to get matters cleared up. "Did you happen to do any of your... magic last night? I encountered quite the strange beast while scouting during my watch, but it made no moves to attack me." He crossed his arms, awaiting her answer. He wasn't exactly comfortable dealing with the Shadowed, but he made no move to show it to Megaira.

Looking at Nash's crossed arms, Megaira thought that Nash wasn't too happy seeing the illusion she set up last night, but still she gave no hesitation to give a straight forward answer since it seems like nothing went wrong. "Yes I did use some magic as you put it, and the strange beast was just a lifeless illusion. I see no problem with this as it was a bit of more security for us. From my travels before this I learned to never go without laying a few traps in case of bandits or even just a riot coming to kill you. Oh, and after we all eat I'd like to discuss something, or would you rather talk about it now?"

Nash grunted. "It's not so much the fact that you made the illusion, but more the fact that you didn't tell anyone." He waved his hand, brushing off the subject. "Just make sure you do next time. As for your other topic, if you'd rather wait until after we eat, that's fine. We're still waiting for those three to wake up anyway." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Jory, Crag, and Alleria. With that, he turned back towards the nearly finished bacon.

Alleria woke up to the sound of conversation. As she was still half-asleep she didn't catch much of what was said, but a glance in the general direction of voices revealed Nash and Megaria were talking about something. It seemed everyone else other than Rhea was still asleep. Alleria forced herself up and walked over towards the trio.

"Morning," she mumbled tiredly. "Breakfast smells good." She still didn't feel entirely awake, and was pretty sure she looked like a mess. While sleeping outdoors did have the benefits of being close to the stars and the plants and just nature in general, it also had its downsides. Namely you were more vulnerable to attacks (which thankfully hadn't happened again after the incident with the bandits) you were exposed to the weather (luckily it hadn't rained or stormed) and that it wasn't as comfortable and left you looking a little disheveled (her current predicament).

"I'm going to go freshen up a bit if you don't mind," she said. She thought the nearby spring would work well, and headed off in that direction.

Upon arriving she splashed some of the cool water on her face, which did wonders for her alertness. She decided to use the opportunity to scrub at some of the dirt that had accumulated on her skin as a result of sleeping on the ground. Taking a look at her reflection, she found that her hair was indeed a mess. After unsuccessfully trying to straighten it out for a brief while, she eventually decided to just wash it as she wasn't sure when the next opportunity would present itself. Deciding to just get it over with, she dunked her head under the water. It was COLD. "Worst idea ever," Alleria bemoaned after surfacing. After getting her hair back into a much more manageable state, she headed back towards the others.

Crag yawned a little as sat up from his bed roll slipping a knife that he keep out well he slept back into its hidden sheath. Noticing Alleria coming back from the woods with her hair wet and disheveled he reached into one of the sacks that he brought with him that held some of the smaller items from his shop(the rest of the stuff was either traded in for gems, coins or letters of credit from the most well know trading companies so he didn't have to worry about his shop getting robbed while he was away and so he was not caring a lot of money with him at a time) and pulled out a ivory comb with golden leaves upon the handle. He silently walked over to the elf lass and handed her the comb.

"Here My Lady Alleria this may help with your hair problem you seem to be having. Don't worry about returning it. Think of it as a gift form one companion to another. After all we can't have your lovely hair becoming a mess well we travel now can we?" he said to her with a wink.

Alleria took the comb Crag had handed her. It was beautifully decorated, and Alleria was touched by the gesture. "Why thank you Crag, I'm sure this will get much use during our journey," she said with a smile. She put it to use while the others discussed breakfast arrangements.

"Now Master Nash that bacon smells delicious but we can't have a proper breakfast without some juice." Crag said with a smile as he flourished and produced a bottle of dark juice with some silver drinking cups from his cloak. "And I just happen to have a bottle of elderberry juice with me, none alcoholic of course. After all alcohol and traveling don't usually mix well... this early in the morn." He said with a matter of fact look upon his face.

Nash turned to see Crag reveal a bottle of what appeared to be Elderberry juice from his cloak.

"Aye," he said, giving a small chuckle, "I suppose we can't, can we? It will be nice to have a drink other than water." He was a bit dismayed at the lack of alcohol, but he supposed the thief had a point. Perhaps traveling with the vandal wouldn't be so bad after all.

Roland brushed past Rhea and Megaira on his way into the camp, stopping immediately in front of Crag. "Did you bring enough for the rest of the class?" Roland asked, raising an eyebrow at the thief before chuckling lightly. He turned to the rest of the group. "While we are on the road today, I think I shall forge a bit ahead to sweep for more bandits. The last thing we want is to get caught off guard again." The ranger paused as he picked up his travel pack, which was already packed and ready to go. He retrieved a strip of venison jerky from the side pocket, chewing on the salted meat and taking a drink from his water skin. "There should be more than enough salted meat in each person's bag for the remainder of the trip to the Shaanti lands, although I think I will be going hunting again tonight for fresh meat. I would like to request that someone join me in sweeping ahead to ensure at least one of us can make it back to the group should we come under attack."

As there was a bit of silence with the group Megaira stood up and said, "If no one is willing I would not mind accompanying you on sweeping ahead, of course if you don't mind me tagging along."

Roland smiled at Megaira and nodded, gesturing for her to come with him. "Follow me, then, Megaira. And do take care not to lag behind too much. We have to get out ahead of the group, so we shall be moving a bit more quickly than you may be used to," he said with a sly grin. He strapped his bow, still in its leather wrapping, to his back next to his traveling sack and took care to fasten his daggers so they would be accessible in combat. "Let us begin," he said, turning toward the path in the forest and striding purposefully toward it.

"Aye lad. What about breakfast though..." Nash murmured, removing the sizzling bacon from where it hung over the fire. But Roland and Megaira were already too far away to hear him. He put on a thoughtful face as he considered what to do about that.

"I guess we'll just eat on the move," he said to the group. "It'll give them some time to get ahead of us at least."

Nash passed out the bacon to the remaining members before moving to gather his things. As he passed Crag and saw the bottle again, he gave a small sigh.

"Guess we'll have time for that later…" he grumbled as he latched up his armor.

* * *

The sun shone down on the group as they moved down the path. The scent of wildflowers was in the air, the birds were chirping, and a cool breeze blew past every now and then. Rhea smiled as she walked along looking at the life surrounding her. The grass and foliage were a vibrant green, and scattered pools of water shone a brilliant blue. The breeze was refreshing as it blew on her light robes. She let out a sigh. "It really is a perfect day," she thought to herself. They were making good distance already - their pace was brisk, but not uncomfortable. Better yet, there didn't appear to be any danger ahead, seeing as Roland and Megaira hadn't returned yet. Either that, or they'd already run into it. She didn't want to think about that, though. Such thoughts are how you ruin an otherwise wonderful day. Looking ahead, she could see that Nash wasn't exactly sharing her sentiment. He was slightly hunched and had an annoyed frown on his face. She switched to a light trot as she ran up to him.

"What's wrong?" She asked with a smile. "Lighten up. The sun's out and it's a beautiful day."

Nash grunted. "It's hard to enjoy the scenery when you're dragging around heaving armor and carrying two people's travel sacks..." he said, giving her a deliberate look.

Rhea shrugged and gave a light chuckle. "Oh Nash, I'm sure you can handle it. Besides, you're the one who volunteered to carry it."

"Only after you complained for an hour." Nash grumbled. He turned to the others. "Oi! You're awfully quite back there. Have either of you been to Sakiiri before? I've been through a few times with Rhea and Gillem, and it's a fairly bustling place. Traders and shops are set up everywhere. I'd advise not getting caught up in the back alleyways, though. Like any place, it has its share of shady businesses, but Sakiiri even more so than most."

Alleria hadn't been, but the shops sounded interesting. The alleyways, not so much.

"What's Sakiiri like?" Alleria asked. "What kinds of shops do they have? How's the food there? Can we stay at an inn before moving on?" Alleria didn't necessarily want to complain about their journey as restoring the mana did take priority, but she did hope they could take the time to enjoy civilization when they passed it by. Although she supposed shopping would have to be limited to necessities as she didn't want to have to lug around more than she needed to. Ah, the burdens of being a traveler. Well, she supposed she'd get used to it soon enough. Or be forced to adapt, if nothing else.

Nash was surprised by the barrage of questions from the so-far quite elf. He took a moment to collect himself.

"Well, as you can probably guess, it's a desert town. Well... more like an oasis, but it's still sandy and hot. It's a fairly large place, especially for being in the middle of the desert, mostly due to the fact that it's the capital city of the Shantii and a major trading center. Because of this, you can expect to see a lot of their people there. However, it's also home to many people from other races as well." He took a breath. "As for shops, there are merchants set up in stalls around almost every corner. Traveling caravans regularly stop through to trade their wares. You can find almost anything you want to buy in Sakiiri, if you're willing to search hard enough." Her next question was his favorite part of Sakiiri. "The food is amazing. There are restaurants and taverns ranging anywhere from the lowest of the low to five-star places I can only dream about eating at. The aromas that come from those places..." He trailed off, his stomach beginning to growl. "There are many types of food available as well. You can find a restaurant that serves the native food of almost any race. And as for your final question, I do believe Gillem has sent a messenger to book us an inn. We'll be spending a night or two there before continuing north."

They walked for a while more before Nash turned back to the group again. "We should be reaching the desert by the end of tomorrow. If we continue at this pace, we should be able to reach Sakiiri in four days from there, leaving us with an extra day if no conflicts arise. Based on our lack of scouts, I'm going to assume they haven't found anything problematic."

* * *

Roland continued at his brisk pace, impressed by Megaira's ability to keep up with him. The pair had been walking off to the side of the path, making sure to keep to the trees to lessen their chances of being ambushed. Although Roland had seen human and Elven tracks, he had not yet seen anything to indicate that the group was in any danger. "You know, Megaira, most of the magical types I meet find it very difficult to keep a pace like this while carrying a full travel sack. I'm impressed," he said sincerely, still making good progress. "Although I am not happy that we left before the bacon was done. That was shortsighted on my part." He glanced over his shoulder. "So, Megaira, what made someone of your... position... decide to come on this journey?"

At Roland's question, Megiara, she was reminded of her deceased father. She stopped where she was and looked down for a few seconds, then looked back at Jory and replied with, "Well, it was never my intent to travel with others, first because anyone new I met would run away or try to kill me on the spot, but I traveled to find a way to restore mana for my father. I also have another goal, having to do with this necklace around me," she then reveled her necklace that was kept away in her dress," and if you were to ever see someone with the same necklace, would you be so kind as to tell me about said person. Oh and I'd guess it'd be rude of me not to ask you the same thing right? So Roland, why are you here?"

Roland looked at the path in front of him, hiding his face with his hood. "I do not normally like to talk about my past for the safety of those around me. Suffice to say that if you knew, you might understand my reasons for not wanting to involve others in my personal affairs." Roland then turned around and smiled at Megaira. "On a cheerier note, I have not seen any human tracks for nearly a league. That means we should be relatively safe, as long as the wyrms in this area are not hungry for humans. We should be safe provided we stay together." He bent down and indicated the six-inch wide strip of disturbed soil that was obvious to the well-trained hunter's eye. "This indicates where the wyrm that roams just around us has been close to the surface recently. Take care to stay away from there. It could collapse. After all, it's hollow now."

* * *

So Sakiiri was a major trade city in the middle of the desert. That seemed...odd, although the fact that it was supposed to be an oasis helped lessen her worries a little bit. Although there was still the risk of dying of dehydration before they reached said oasis. "Are we going to have enough water to make it through the desert before we arrive?" Alleria asked. She hoped so, as the place sounded quite nice, for a desert city anyway. Shops containing everything you could imagine, amazing food, and comfy beds were enough to lift her spirits.

"Master Nash would it not be a bit more practical to see if we could find a group to trade for mounts with? At least for the desert anyway, it would save us some time. Also it would not be wise to travel through the desert in the heat of the day. Its best traveled in early morning and the evening. Oh and one more thing the aromas may be good and the food is delicious in those five star restaurants but unfortunately the amount of food you get for the price is very not profitable." Crag said with a smile on his face.

"What do you mean by not profitable?" Alleria worriedly asked. "Do you mean they overcharge?" She had supposed they wouldn't be able to afford the best of the best, but she also hoped they could avoid this "lowest of the low" that Nash spoke of. Alleria also wondered what the group had in mind for mounts. Horses were a definite possibility as the majority of the group was made up of humans, but she wasn't sure they'd fare well in a desert. Perhaps camels then? She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about riding one, but she supposed it would be at least slightly better than walking. "And what kind of mounts are you thinking of?" she asked, leaving it open for any of them to answer.

Nash decided to address each point one at a time. "We'll be stocking up on extra water in Saarid, a small town near the edge of the desert." I'll also be asking around to make sure Gillem was there, as planned... Nash thought. "As for mounts, we unfortunately will be without any until we reach Sakiiri, for sure. We'll see what we can do when we get there." Gillem was holding the most of the group's funding for now, as he was to be renting rooms and making other arrangements for them in Sakiiri. He gave a snort. "Also, I wouldn't recommend traveling this desert by night. Nighttime's when the real predators come out in the land of the Shantii." They walked for a while, before Rhea turned to Nash. "I'm a little worried about Roland and Megaira." she whispered. "They haven't reported back yet..."

Nash nodded and whispered back: "There isn't a whole lot we can do, though. They're pretty far ahead of us. Besides, if something happened, I'm sure we'll see some signs of it on the trail."

Just as he finished the sentence, he stumbled and nearly fell. "Agh!" he cried as his foot fell through the ground. He pulled it out, testing the ankle. Luckily, it seemed to be fine. He examined the hole, looking for the source of his mishap, and noticed for the first time the narrow strip of soil moving up the trail. What is this...? he thought, running his fingers over the trail.

Rhea gave Nash a worried look. "Are you alright?" she asked. There was no way the others could have missed Nash's fall either.

"I'm fine, but..." he grunted, running his hand over the path.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"The soil here is disturbed..." he said, focused on the path. "I wouldn't have even noticed this if I hadn't stumbled." he waved the others over. "Do either of you two know what this is?"

Alleria tentatively took a look. Upon assuring herself that immediate danger was unlikely for the moment, she crept closer in order to examine it better. "I'm...not sure. How about you Crag?" she asked. She wondered if Roland and Megaira had noticed this. Come to think of it, they had been gone awhile without reporting back. "Do you think Roland and Megaira saw this?" Alleria asked. "They have been gone awhile..." she trailed off worriedly. "I hope nothing bad happened to them."

* * *

Roland crept quietly along the edge of the trail, signaling for Megaira to follow him. As they had gone further on the trail, the disturbances in the soil had become more frequent. Clearly the wyrm had been here for quite a bit. He stopped moving, signaling for Megaira to do the same, as a rumble approached them and passed again. "The wyrm is on the hunt. Best not to go any further along this trail. We shall have to skirt around it. It should not take more than a few extra hours, though." He began to walk back from where they had come. "It will be safer further out from the trail. That is probably why we did not see any tracks earlier. Others knew not to risk the trail." He stopped moving again as the rumble sounded again, closer this time. Oh, for the love of Aer, no. "Megaira, not to alarm you, but we are being circled. Do not make any sudden movements. Wyrms cannot see, but they can feel vibrations in the soil as bats can the air. We must continue back to the group and warn them." He continued along the trail, crouched but moving quite agilely. The rumbling got louder. "Megaira, can you conjure a shield of any sort? What the-" Roland was cut off by a very loud rumbling and a slightly muffled roar, followed by the wyrm breaking the surface in a vertical breach between Roland and the necromancer. The force threw Roland to the ground, but he was able to roll backward and end up standing. "Megaira, run!" he shouted, drawing his bow and firing at the wyrm. The beast was roughly 6 and a half meters tall and covered in mud-colored armored scaling. It had no limbs, but its maw was divided into four sections. These sections were armored on the outside and bristling with dagger-like teeth on the inside. Roland's arrow stuck in one of the exposed areas on the inside of one of the mouth-sections, eliciting an infuriated roar from the wyrm. "Go warn the group! I shall slow him down!"

Megaira knew the best thing to do is to get help from the others, because even with her necromancy and Roland's strength the Wyrm would still be difficult to beat.

She ran backed as fast as she could before she was ready to drop. She stopped at one point and thought, "Funny, running this far never got me this tired before, I guess missing breakfast wasn't a good thing. But geez how far are they anyways." She then tried running again but couldn't last very long so she started to slow down with her running until she tripped over and fell, but she could hear some familiar voices. Yes, I'm sure these voices are from the other members she thought as she stood up with a few scraps on her, and walked towards the voices, and seeing figures not too far she then began to shout with a tired voice, "Roland, wyrm, trouble, help."As the figures came closer she then said with a weaker voice, "Roland's fighting a wyrm, he's in trouble, go help him." She then collapsed from exhaustion, hoping when she awakens Roland and everyone would be alright.

Rhea rushed over to Megaira, placing a hand on her forehead.

"She's fine, just exhausted. They must've been even farther ahead than we thought." Her face took on a worried expression. "It sounded like Roland's in trouble. You all go ahead and help him, and I'll stay here with Megaira until she wakes up. Hopefully I can do something to speed up that process so we can join you."

Nash nodded. "Let's go! Roland will need all the help he can get!" He took off running forward.

"If he's far enough ahead that Megaira would collapse from exhaustion, we'll need to hurry. Still... I don't want to arrive exhausted, or I'll be of no help."

He slowed his pace slightly, but not so much that he wasn't still rushing. He looked back to make sure the others were following.


End file.
